More Than a Ghost
by Philippe de la Matraque
Summary: They'd just won the battle and defeated Rorke once and for all. Or did they? Logan was dragged into the jungle, while his desperate brother screamed his name. Logan must now face his worst nightmare as Hesh and the Ghosts do their best to find him. But will it be too late?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes

SPOILERS BELOW  
But really I think you have to have played (or watched someone play) the game to really get any of these stories so this should be more of a rehash.

* * *

Background from the game: Rorke is a former Ghost, turned by the Fed to be a Ghost Hunter. He wants to kill all Ghosts and takes a personal interest in Elias Walker and his son's. Elias dropped him during a disastrous mission to save the rest of the squad, leaving Rorke for dead and in the hands of the Feds. We learn that they kept him in a deep pit for months, feeding him food laced with the poison from jungle plants until his body is broken down. Then the Feds went to work on his mind and soul. At one point, when Rorke was captured and during his escape from the Ghosts, he tells Logan Walker that if they meet again, there's always room for one more. When they next meet, the Ghosts are captured. Logan is shot to try and get the father to talk. Logan gets free and gets Rork's gun but Rorke struggles with him and wins. Father is shot, Logan ends up on the floor. Elias ends up shot several times. He ends up on the floor next to Logan. He tells Logan he's proud of him, then Rorke steps on his face and shoots him in the head. Just before Keegan saves the captured Ghosts, you hear a lackey say that the boss wants the youngest (Logan) kept alive. Keegan does the saving and the Ghosts get away. Later at the end of the game, the brothers take down Rorke and nearly die in the process. Bloodied, Logan swims his wounded brother to the surface and drags him up the beach to prop him against a rock. But the credits stop rolling to reveal another scene: Rorke is not dead. He defeats the wounded brothers, breaking Logan's arm. Then he promises Logan that he will help him kill the Ghosts and drags him off into the jungle. After the long credits roll, we have a brief scene of being in a deep pit with a locked grate over the top, giving us a quick glimpse into the unpleasant future of Logan Walker.

This greatly disturbed me, making this story a necessity.

More Than A Ghost  
by Philippe de la Matraque

Keegan saw only one figure on the beach through his binoculars. One body perhaps, lying prone beside a large rock. "Hesh," he tried the radio again. "Logan? You guys alright?" The body didn't move. He could only see one. He dropped the binoculars and willed the boat to go faster. It was already hurtling forward at its top speed. He picked up the binoculars again, scanning wider, trying to find the other brother. Riley whimpered beside him and Keegan put a hand on the dog's head. "We'll get them," he said. He hoped it was true.

Finally, he put the binoculars down for good. He could see the beach and the body there with his own eyes. The boat slowed as it neared the beach, and Riley jumped out quick, padding toward one of the brothers. Keegan jumped out to follow. He rolled over the body to find a camouflage painted face. Hesh. Logan had worn his father's mask. Riley began to lick Hesh's face and Keegan pushed him back. The dog didn't need to injest that paint. But the licking was stimulation and Hesh began to groan. He opened his eyes wide and tried to get up. Keegan pushed him back down. "You're alright," Keegan told him. "We're going to take you back and get you patched up."

"No!" Hesh tried to roll back over but could only twist to look back into the jungle beyond.

Keegan saw blood there, drag marks. He looked around. Boot prints on the beach. None near Hesh's feet, an indentation where the drag marks started. Blood there. Logan. Who had dragged him off?

Hesh had the answer. "Rorke! Not dead. He took Logan. I have to go after him."

Keegan held him down again. "If you don't go back now, you _will die_. I'll look for Logan. I'll take Riley." He looked back to the crew in the boat. "Get him to a medic ASAP. Send someone back for me."

He stood as they started to pick Hesh up. He looked to Riley. "Riley, find Logan."

The dog sniffed the ground where Logan had bled and started off in the direction of the drag marks. Keegan took a moment to feel that blood. It wasn't warm. Rorke had a head start.

* * *

Logan tried to be strong. His arm hurt like hell, and he was seriously scared. The Federation had done something terrible to Rorke to turn him and now Rorke meant to turn him the same way. His father had said that if they could turn Rorke, they could turn anyone. He was scared for what was to come. But right now, he just tried to be strong. He was cold at night, hot in the day, hungry and thirsty and covered in mud when it rained. When it rained he got water. When considering that, it was fortunate that it rained every other day or so. But that left him wet and his hell-hole slippery and thick with mud. He was in a pit, too tall to climb out if he had two working arms. He had no clothes on, no tools, no weapons. Rorke had thrown him over the edge of it and locked a barred grate over the top.

The first day alone, he'd tried to jump up to grab the gate. He hadn't come close and he'd slipped in the mud and landed back on his right arm, which was still busted. He'd blacked out from the pain and woke up still on it. Just rolling over was an ordeal. He hadn't tried jumping again. He was stuck and the only way he was getting out of the hole was for Hesh and the Ghosts to get him out.

Whenever he thought of his brother, he felt even more alone. He saw Hesh, leaning forward with his hand outstretched. Heard him calling his name but unable to follow. He probably died there on the beach. No, no someone was coming to get them. Maybe it was Keegan. Keegan would have found him, would have reached him in time. Hesh would tell them that Rorke took him. They'd be looking for him. Maybe Riley could follow his scent.

But it had been a week and no Ghosts. He was counting the days. At least since he'd been conscious enough to do so. He'd passed out now and then after Rorke started dragging him. Maybe he'd put him in a boat. He did remember waking up on a hard, rocking surface. Well, the Ghosts could follow a boat. But maybe Rorke took him on a plane or chopper. Maybe he was far from the beach now. Maybe they couldn't find him like they couldn't find Rorke after Dad had to let go of him in Caracas. Maybe they wouldn't find him. Maybe Rorke would turn him and he'd find them and do terrible things. God, he didn't want that.

He tried not to think that way. He tried to be strong. He was so hungry that he was seriously considering eating worms. There were enough of them, slithering out of the mud after the rain. The mud got so deep, it pulled him deeper into the hole and he had to scramble up as much as he could. He thought he'd drown in that mud if it rained all night. He tried not to sleep. But then, not sleeping can drive a person insane. Insane would make it easier for Rorke to turn him. He couldn't be insane. He had to sleep. If he drowned, he couldn't be turned.

Exhausted and cold, Logan fell asleep and dreamt of being eaten by worms as Rorke laughed at the top of the pit.

* * *

Hesh woke up from a troubled sleep. He'd had surgery more than a week ago to repair his bullet wounds, but they still had him off-duty when he wanted to be out looking for Logan. He was surprised to find Keegan there beside the bed. "Did you find him?"

Keegan looked down at his joined hands between his knees. "We lost him in the Amazon river system."

Hesh felt sick, like his stomach had just been ripped out his body. "Lost him?" he repeated.

"Riley and I tracked him to the water," Keegan went on. "Evidence of a boat. We sent choppers up and down the river but it branched out in tributaries that went deep into the jungle. Without a scent. . . . We did find one thing."

He took something from his pocket and handed it to Hesh. It was a black woven cloth and Hesh knew exactly what it was before he opened it. Dad's mask. Logan's mask. His throat hurt and tears welled in his eyes.

"We're not giving up, Hesh. We don't give up on our Ghosts."

"You gave up on Rorke," Hesh accused. He felt bad for it but not bad enough to stop. "Rorke wants to turn Logan to hunt the Ghosts. Like they turned him. It's what he said."

"We thought he was dead and we kept looking for his body until we were pulled out," Keegan argued. "We didn't have a choice. But we know Logan is alive. We know Rorke is keeping him alive. We won't give up." Keegan stood. "We'll be in the wardroom when you're ready." He left the room.

And Hesh cried. He cried in grief for his father, and for his brother, and in frustration because he should have gone after them. He was too weak. Too hurt. And now his baby brother was being tortured in Fed territory by a monster of a man who just refused to die. Riley, who must've returned with Keegan, jumped onto the bed and laid his head on Hesh's chest. Hesh buried his fingers in the loyal dog's fur. Riley was all he had left.

Forty minutes later, Hesh and Riley joined Merrick and Keegan in the ward room.

* * *

He didn't think he'd ever get used to the stink. He couldn't get away from it. He had to relieve himself. Of course, there was no way to keep that sort of thing separate from everywhere else when the rain turned the pit into quagmire of mud and water and everything else. Sometimes his feet disappeared and he worried about getting stuck like that. He was disgusting and he didn't have any choice.

He got confused. Couldn't count the days and nights any more. He ate a worm in desperation. He threw it back up. He managed to keep the next one down. He gulped handfuls of water when it rained, slaking a desperate thirst. But it was never enough.

Tonight, the rain wasn't stopping but coming down in droves late into the night. But he was too tired to keep trying to catch it, and it fell through his hands. His calves disappeared under muddy water and he though very seriously about drowning himself in it.

"Don't do that, Logan."

Logan fell back into the muddy wall of the pit. He looked up, but no one was there. He knew that voice.

"Logan, I'm here."

He lowered his head and thought he could just make out a face in front of him, obscured by the torrent of rain. His father's face. _Dad?_

"It's me," the face said. "I'm here. I won't leave you."

Tears mixed with the rain streaming down Logan's face. He hadn't had the chance to grieve but he knew his father was dead. He couldn't be here with him in the pit. _I'm losing my mind. Or this is some trick by Rorke._

"Rorke can't control me, not anymore, Logan. You buried me face down to keep watch over you and that's what I'm going to do."

Then he felt it. A hand on his cheek. And he lost himself in relief he didn't understand and grief too heavy to carry anymore. He sat back in the water and mud and everything else and sobbed all the while feeling his father's arms around his shoulders.

When the sobs subsided, the rain had finally stopped. The water was slowly receding into the muck. And Logan decided to trust. Crazy or not. His father was a ghost and he wasn't alone anymore. _He wants to turn me._

"I won't let him. Every lie he tells you, I'll tell you the truth. I'll help you remember who you are. I will help you through this however I can."

* * *

The physical therapist did not look happy to see him, Hesh thought. _Too bad._ He didn't want to be there. He wanted to be out there looking for some clue to where his brother was, not doing these stupid, painful exercises. But the doctor ordered it and Merrick agreed. He had argued that Hesh would be in better shape to rescue his brother if he were one hundred percent rather than fifty.

And they had found something. During a raid on a base in the ruins of Machu Pichu, they had found a record that put Rorke in Brasilia three days ago. If Rorke was holding his previous pattern, he would have moved every twelve hours. But if he was trying to turn Logan, he might not be doing that. He might have stayed put. Or he might have left all that to others. Hesh had a feeling that Rorke had made it personal there on the beach. He'd wanted Logan. The Federation would probably rather Logan was dead.

Hesh was a bad patient. The therapist said he was too impatient. He had to push his body, not punish it. He didn't care. He wanted to be out there, on the way to Brasilia with Keegan. He swore Riley was forgetting whose dog he was. Well, not really, but Hesh was full of dark thoughts like that these days. It had been three weeks since Logan was taken. Three weeks of hell for Logan. And Hesh couldn't do anything about it.

* * *

Every once in a while a bucket appeared. It had food in it and a rope tied to it. And he ate the food even though it made him sick and dizzy and made everything worse. The hunger was constant. The thirst desperate. The bucket went up when the food was gone, and everything that came after joined in the sludge at the bottom of the pit. Logan felt a part of that sludge, a useless lump of suffering nothing.

Having his dad with him helped. Oh, it didn't make him less hungry. It didn't keep his arm from hurting, his hell-hole from stinking or sinking him in mud. It didn't make the worms taste any better or catch more of the rain. It didn't keep him warm or shelter him from the heat and humidity. It didn't keep him from worrying about what was to come.

Though to be honest, he didn't give that a whole lot of thought anymore. There was only the now. And the now lasted forever. There was just trying to find shade now, or catch water now or choke down a worm now. He sometimes found that night had come suddenly, and when he slept morning came much faster. He didn't remember sleeping but he did it a lot. And when he was awake, he could see his dad sitting with him. And his dad told him stories from when they were children, reminding him of the life of a boy he didn't remember. A boy named Logan Walker.

* * *

Three months. Three months since the big victory against the Fed where they thought they'd killed Rorke. Three month since Logan was dragged into the jungle. Three months while that monster had him doing God knows what. It ate at Hesh like a cancer in his gut. He had trouble eating but forced himself because if he dropped too much weight, they wouldn't think him fit for duty. He'd bulked up, got into shape again. He was ready to go out, itching to go out. Already they'd had a couple leads.

Brasilia was a bust, except that one guard was overheard talking about a gringo Ghost, Rorke's new pet. They worried what that meant. Had he been turned? They made sure not to kill that guard. They let him escape and followed him with a tracker on his helmet. He'd moved on to La Paz where they found a guy wearing Logan's helmet. The data dump from that one had included a short video from Rorke. He was laughing.

They were pretty sure then that Rorke was toying with them, but they followed every lead anyway. The Federation was losing the war and every base they took out sped that up. And just maybe they'd find a lead that Rorke hadn't meant them to find.

This time, Hesh was finally going along. He was ready, more than ready. He'd find Logan if it meant killing every Federation soldier one by one. And someday, someday he'd find Rorke and he'd make him pay.

* * *

The rope was back but no bucket. There was a man with high boots and hand-cuffs and another rope. Logan didn't know what to make of the change but his heart began to pound in a ribcage that showed prominently through his skin. Pain shot up his arm when the man grabbed his wrists to put the hand-cuffs on. And he was confused when the man tied the other rope around his neck. The man didn't pull it tight but he threw the other end up the rope up. Logan looked up and saw the grate was gone. But a face looked down at him with a smile. A face he never wanted to see again. Rorke.

"Pull him up!" Rorke ordered. Logan felt the rope slip up under his chin and then the knot in the back hit his neck high up. He quickly stuck his fingers under it and took a deep breath. Then the pulling began and he choked. He thought his head would pop off as his feet stuck in the mud. But they released with a pop and he slowly slid up the muddy sides of the pit, struggling with the pull on his neck and his inability to breathe. His vision blurred and went black. And then the pressure stopped, the rope loosened, and he instinctively exhaled the breath he'd held and gulped in a few more. His vision brightened and he was lying on the ground. The weeds were tickling his mud-caked skin. He saw his dad crouched beside him. He looked worried.

"What a miserable, stinking lump of shit!" Rorke roared. "Get him on his feet."

Two men, wearing long gloves, pulled him up by his shoulders, but his spasming legs sent him back to the ground.

"You'll stand or you'll be dragged," Rorke warned, giving the rope a little tug.

"Stand up, Logan," his father urged gently. "You can do this, son."

Logan used his left hand and pushed himself up, shaking violently. His head swam to be up so high but he managed to stay on his feet. The knot came round in front of him and Rorke started walking. The rope pulled on the back of his neck and Logan nearly fell again. But he made his legs take one step and then another. Rorke kept his distance but Logan had to follow. The now he'd been lost in suddenly collided with the future he was so afraid of. Maybe he was better off in the pit.

Rorke was walking too fast. It was hard to keep up without tripping. Logan's father tucked a hand under Logan's arm and Logan kept his feet moving. He had no idea how long they walked. He couldn't tell time anymore. He only knew he was tired, and his body felt extremely heavy. Finally he saw a truck parked on the other side a stream. Logan found himself relieved to see the end of the walk but still terrified of what lay beyond the drive.

But Rorke didn't go to the truck. He stopped by the stream. "Walk to the middle," he ordered.

Logan didn't want to but he didn't see any alternative at this point. Even if he got the rope off his head, he'd never outrun Rorke at this point. Logan stepped into the cold water of the stream. The current was fast and the rocks were uneven. With his father's support he went in further. By the time he was in the middle, the water was to his knees. It was washing the muck off his lower legs.

"Stand still and don't move," Rorke said. Then he threatened, "You move and I'll shoot you in the arm. Won't kill you but it will give you something else to think about." He walked behind Logan and Logan heard him splash into the water.

Suddenly there was a jerk on the rope and Logan fell back into the water. His father's hand kept his head from slamming into the rocks. Instinctively, Logan's hands had come up to the rope but he tried to turn to get back up. Rorke's booted foot stopped that. It pushed down on the cuffs holding Logan's hands to his chest and kept him on the bottom.

Logan couldn't breathe and hadn't had a chance to take a breath. He jerked but couldn't get out from under that boot without his hands. His vision blurred again and the water came in. Rorke hauled him up, and Logan coughed out the water and gasped for air. He continued to cough as his lungs tried to push out the last of the water.

"What? No thank you?" Rorke pushed him back down. This time the blur changed to black and Logan drowned. Until Rorke hauled him up onto the shore by his hair and dumped him in the dirt. He pushed Logan onto his back with his foot then knelt down and thumped him hard on the chest until Logan splurted out the water and threw up.

Logan woke up coughing and feeling the rope pull on his neck again. "Get up!" Rorke ordered. Logan struggled to his feet, still retching. Rorke jumped into the back of the truck and jerked the rope so that Logan fell into the bumper and floor of it. He pulled and Logan had to climb in. Rorke tied the other end of the rope to a bar then jumped back out. He closed the doors and Logan lay shaking where Rorke had left him. His father sat beside him, trying to rub the hair out of his eyes.

"I'd kill him if I could figure out how," Elias told his son.

The truck began to move. Logan closed his eyes and willed the blackness to come back. It obliged.

* * *

Rorke left them another lead. Another file. This one with coordinates. It was deep in the Amazonian jungle of what used to be Brazil. It was very likely a trap. Merrick ordered a drone to check it out. The spy plane dropped the drone at 2300 hours with infrared sensors sending data right to the command center. It was cold. No activity at all. The only heat signatures showing corresponded to plant and animal life. But right in the center of those coordinates there was neither. A fifteen foot diamater circle of nothing. The nearest Federation presence was twenty miles away. What looked like a native village was two clicks south. Rorke had left it open for them.

Merrick decided a small team could recon and get back out as quietly as they went in. He'd liked the brothers' work with Riley when they first met. So it was just the four of them when they set out. A chopper brought them in, stayed high and hoisted them seventy feet to the jungle floor.

They wore black to blend in with the night, the only color being the white of their masks. The night vision allowed them to see clearly their environment. Still, they stayed low and let Riley lead the way. Hesh had the monitor, guiding the dog toward the clearing. They saw no other presence. They made it to the edge of the clearing in twenty-three minutes.

They could see the glint of metal over a dark spot in the center of the clearing. Hesh sent Riley out slowly. As the dog approached the dark spot, Hesh's guts clenched. He remember what his dad had said about how Rorke was left in a pit for months. Now he was staring through the camera at a deep pit. Riley whimpered and snapped one quick bark.

"Send him all the way around," Merrick ordered. "We have to be sure there's no hostiles out there."

Hesh shook his head to focus and guided Riley around the clearing and looking off into the jungle all around. "It's clear," he reported and guided Riley back.

Keegan had watched over Hesh's shoulder. "We have to know," he said quietly. Hesh nodded and put away the monitor. They went single file until they were at the edges of the pit. The smell hit them hard. Merrick popped a flare an dropped it down. It went down a dozen feet or more and squelched into the mud. In its wan light they saw no body. Logan wasn't there.

But he had been. Hesh was sure of it. Riley found a scent and they followed him to the east. It ended as it had before, in a stream. "Have him check the other side," Merrick ordered. Hesh synced up again and guided Riley through the water and over to the other side. He found the scent again and followed it to where it stopped a few feet downstream. The three of them hurried across the fast running stream. There were tire tracks.

"We can follow them," Hesh suggested.

"Not tonight," Merrick said. He didn't sound happy about it. "The chopper's waiting and these tracks are heading toward that base twenty miles out. I'm sure of it. We need a plan." He turned to head back. "We'll be back, Hesh. Let's go."

Hesh stared at the path for another moment, then reluctantly turned back. Riley whimpered but followed.

They went back out the way they'd come and hoisted back to the chopper. Hesh didn't say another word, but hugged Riley close. The others were quiet, too. Except once as they passed the border. Merrick shook his head and just said, "Bastard." Then they were silent again.

* * *

Logan was cold. He was curled up in a small wooden box. He knew he was flying as he'd felt the take-off. He could see other boxes through the slats of his. He was in the cargo hold.

His father was both in the box and out of it as there wasn't room for him to be all the way in. "I'm keeping track where we are," he told his son. "I'll go to the cockpit and find out."

 _Please just stay,_ Logan asked. _It doesn't matter anymore._

"It does," his father argued. "Because I'm going to learn how to be stronger. I'm going to figure out how I can get your brother to find you."

Logan thought he should feel cheerful about that but he just couldn't muster up any cheer. He could feel his father's touch but his father couldn't move the slats in the box. He just pushed through them. The rules must be different when you were that kind of ghost, he mused. _Wait 'til I'm asleep._

"Okay."

* * *

Elias waited until his younger son was asleep. He looked peaceful then. He slept a lot lately though there were still dark circles around his eyes. Logan was exhausted. He broke Elias's heart.

He cursed the fact that he was non-corporeal. He was useless to really help his son. But as he passed through doors and floors as he moved to the front of the plane, he had to admit to himself that if he were still alive, he'd be looking for Logan just like Hesh surely was now. Logan would be lost to him. And even though he couldn't rescue Logan or break him out, he could comfort him and make sure he was never alone without someone who loved him. And that was something Rorke hadn't had. Maybe if he had, he wouldn't have broken.

Rorke was in the cockpit, standing between the pilot and co-pilot's seats, his arms on the backs of their chairs. Elias wanted to break those arms. But he when he swung at Rorke, his hands went right through him. That didn't happen when he touched Logan.

"Drop us off at Antonio Noriño Airport, then get those supplies back to Caracas."

Elias thought hard about South American geography, trying to realize where that was. Then it came back to him. Colombia. They were heading west northwest. It was closer to the coast than where they'd been. That could be useful. If he could somehow get a message to Hesh.

Elias stood in front of Rorke, nose to nose, wishing hard for a way to harm him. Suddenly alarms went off throughout the cockpit.

"We're losing power," the pilot called out.

No, the plane couldn't crash. Logan would be killed. Elias retreated to the back of the cockpit and the plane stabilized. But he realized something. He'd found a way to affect the real world. Now he just had to figure out how to use it.

Proceed to Chapter Two  
If you like this story and feel you have a good handle on the military jargon and/or world of Call of Duty Ghosts, please contact me and offer your help. I do have a good idea where this story is going. I know HOW it will end, though not exactly WHEN it will end.


	2. Chapter 2

More Than A Ghost  
by Philippe de la Matraque

Chapter Two

The base was actually lightly defended. That alone pointed to the fact that Logan wasn't there. Still, what resistance there was was fierce. Even the wounded were still fighting, right to the point when they bled out. The Ghosts had to fight for every inch as they made their way inside. It was slow going. Hesh led a team to clean up the grounds, while Keegan led another toward the command post.

Hesh counted twenty kills of his own. There were several dozen to contend with overall. The hardest bit was as they rounded on the airfield. A sniper took down one of his men. Hesh sent Riley to hunt him and when the dog surprised the man, Hesh took him out. Riley bounded back with a sloppy grin.

"Airfield clear," Hesh reported. "Moving around to right side."

"Acknowledged," Merrick responded from headquarters.

It took another twenty minutes to sweep the entire grounds. Keegan reported that he had the commandant. "He's handcuffed to his chair."

"It's a set up," Merrick said. "Find out what he knows and keep your eyes peeled. This could be a trap."

Hesh thought it was very odd that the commandant was handcuffed to his chair but he was more concerned with finding his brother or finding his brother's trail. He showed Riley the mask then ordered him to find Logan.

* * *

For a guy hand-cuffed to his chair, the commandant had a lot of bravado. "He told me you'd come for the gringo boy." He was a rotund, middle-aged man with oily skin. There were three bottles of beer on the desk in front of him. Two were empty. One had a straw in it.

"Rorke?" Keegan asked. He and three others filled the office. Jackson watched the hall, but the rest of the building was empty so Keegan didn't expect any surprises.

The commandant threw up his hands, as much as he could. "Who else? Pompous ass but he's got power." Then he harrumphed. "Me, I made the mistake of getting on his bad side. Tried to tell him that his mission was to kill Ghosts not make pets of them. This," he raised his hands again, "is what I get for presuming to know his mission. You kill my men and I'm left to give you a message before you kill me."

Keegan decided to try playing nice. "We don't have to kill you. You can fuck up Rorke's plans. Tell us where he took the boy and we'll leave you. Might even leave you the means to get you out of that chair."

The commandant shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Your offer might be more tempting if I were in San Diego, outside Fed Territory. But you're behind enemy lines. Who says you'll make it out of here?"

"Infrared drones. You're isolated. No one moving in, no reinforcements. The way I see it, you've got three choices. One, deliver your message and die because anything Rorke says will probably piss me off to no end. Two, just tell us where Logan Walker is without the drama and keep breathing. Or better yet, tell us where they took him, and lots of other things and become a valued citizen of the United States."

The commandant laughed. "A few victories and you guys are full of yourselves. Rorke would add me to his hit list and I wouldn't last a month. Besides, I won't betray my country or my family."

Keegan kept calm. "Down to the first two options then."

"They're actually the same. The message was simply to tell you where he took the boy."

Keegan leaned in. "So tell and I'll decide whether or not you stay in that chair."

"He took him to an airplane, filed no flight plan, and said he'd give the pilot the destination once they'd reached ten thousand feet." Then he shrugged. "As if I know high that is. We use metric here."

Keegan stood up and turned away. He relayed the information to Merrick as he walked to the big window overlooking the airfield.

"You have to tell Hesh," Merrick said.

Keegan saw Hesh and Riley step out onto the runway. Riley lay down and Hesh dropped to his knees in defeat. "I think he already knows." Keegan stormed back to the commandant and stabbed his knife into the man's arm deep enough to bury the blade into the arm of the chair. Then he called his men out, leaving the commandant screaming obscenities in Portuguese.

* * *

The cold was gone. Now he was hot, and the sweat was running into his eyes. He was still in the crate, still in the cargo hold. But the plane had landed. He'd felt that. At least, in here, Rorke wasn't doing anything to him. He wondered where they were and where Rorke was going to put him and what they were going to do to him. He didn't want to wonder about that. He wanted to be lost in the now like before.

 _Colombia?_ he asked his father again.

"Yes, we're in Colombia."

His father was patient even though he'd asked that at least three times now. Logan just couldn't do small talk right now. _Is it near the coast?_

"I don't think so. It's in the mountains. There's a river nearby."

 _I don't guess it really matters. I'm not home._ Home was where Hesh was. And Riley. And Merrick and Keegan and Kick and all the others. There were doctors and warm food and occasional ice cream.

"No, but I'm here and I'm not going to leave you until you're safe."

 _I'm never going to be safe again._

His father put his hand on Logan's shoulder. "You will. Hesh and others will find you. Hesh won't stop looking. The Ghosts won't stop looking. Especially after what happened with Rorke. No one wants you turned to help him. They won't give up. So you can't give up."

The hold filled with light and Logan resigned himself to the next phase of his torment. The light was bright outside. The air was heavy and humid. The soldiers that entered the cargo hold took a couple other crates and boxes out. Logan wondered if any of them held people. Then four of them came and put long poles into the top of his crate. They lifted him off the floor and carried him toward the cargo bay door. Logan could see a truck through the slats. Open bed. Maybe the driver would drive crazy and his crate would slide out and break on the road to wherever they were going. Maybe he could disappear into the landscape if that happened.

But it didn't happen. His crate was loaded onto the flat bed of the truck. But it was roped down and the drive was short. "We're heading south," his father said. "Right turns."

Elias kept calling out the turns, and the fact that they turned north again. It was good tactical information for use in the advent of escape. Logan didn't think escape was really an option at this point. The drive was all of maybe ten minutes. They'd passed through a small town, full of civilians going about their lives. It made Logan sad to think he'd never have a normal life again. He was in a dismal mood.

The truck made one last turn, left this time, and then stopped. Logan could see a pleasant looking two-story building with a veranda, a balcony, and large windows in front of it. It looked like a little mountain hotel. Rorke jumped onto the bed of the truck. "We've got a nice little room all made up for you."

Even Dad looked confused. "Logan, they could try to be nice to you. Get you to like them."

 _I'll never like Rorke. I hate him._

"Just be on the watch for that. If they're nice, they're faking it."

There must have been a padlock on the crate because Rorke unlocked it and threw it down. The side of the crate opened and Rorke picked up the end of the rope and jumped back down off the truck. Logan hurried to get out of the crate before Rorke had a chance to choke him again.

But Rorke didn't give him a chance. He pulled just as Logan neared the edge of the truck bed, jerking him down onto the asphalt, causing several new scrapes and bruises. Several soldiers were standing around and they laughed. Rorke started walking toward the hotel before Logan had gotten upright and without his father's help, Logan would have been dragged. Instead, he lurched forward, humiliated in his nakedness and followed Rorke into the building.

It was converted into a base with a command center in the lobby. Rorke took him through the lobby and down a hall. Some of the doors were open and he could see lovely little rooms turned drab with military gear. At the far end of the hall, Rorke opened a door back outside and yanked him through it. Then he opened a trapdoor on the ground, revealing a staircase down. Rorke turned on a flashlight and started down fast. Logan had to follow. But he was a good ten feet back. He didn't benefit from the flashlight, and his father kept him from falling at least twice. There was a landing and then another staircase further down.

Rorke put the flashlight away and flicked a switch on the wall. There was a long hallway that led back under the hotel. Doors to various rooms and other corridors branched off in either direction. Some of the doors were open and they did not look inviting. One had a metal surgical table with straps on it. Another, a chair with restraints. Logan stopped looking.

The room Rorke took him to had a shower head on the wall and a grate in the floor. There was a bench with folded cloth and a bar of soap.

"You still stink. You've got five minutes."

The water turned on. Logan took the soap and stepped in. It was pleasantly warm, but only for the first minute. It suddenly scalded him as he was rinsing off and he jumped out. Rorke kicked him back in. Logan moved as fast as he could with his hands still cuffed. The water switched again and it was freezing cold.

"Time's up. Grab the clothes." Rorke started walking and the rope started pulling. Logan grabbed the folded cloth from the bench. It didn't seem like a lot of clothes, but he would be glad for any at this point.

Rorke led him across the hall then ordered him into a small, brightly lit room with nothing more than a toilet in one corner. There was a dripping wall spicket above that. Rorke used his knife to cut the rope, also nicking Logan's neck in the process. He unlocked the cuffs then kicked Logan in the chest, sending him backward into the room. The door slammed shut and after the few minutes it took Rorke to get back to the steps, the light flicked off and the room was bathed in darkness.

The only thing Logan could see was his father, who kind of glowed white. Dad helped him back up and Logan pushed himself into a corner so he could sit. He had managed to keep hold of the clothes. He tried to feel what he had but he couldn't tell. "Boxers," his dad said. "Turn 'em around, slit in the front."

 _Thank God!_ Logan thought.

Dad smiled. "Just don't thank Rorke. The other looks like a hospital gown. Ties in the back."

Logan thought of his arm. It wasn't agonizing like it had been at first but it was sore and he could feel it wasn't right. The break had never been set. _Can you?_

Logan felt his dad trying but then Elias sat back and shook his head. "I can touch you, but not really anything else. Yet."

Logan sighed then turned the gown around so the ties were in the front. It had plenty of room, so he tied it then turned it around and put his arms through the holes. It wasn't great but at least he had a small semblance of dignity again. He hadn't been given a towel to dry off so the clothes were wet in minutes. That's when the vents turned on, and cold air conditioning blew hard into the room.

* * *

In the next week, they'd only fed Logan twice. Both times, the food had been meager but poisoned so that Logan was incredibly sick. He didn't even talk to Elias very much, and he only had to think to do that. So Elias knew his son was very ill.

And then the coughing began. By the next morning, he was coughing so much he was gasping for breath. There was a rattling to his cough, almost like he was drowning. And he was sweating inspite of the cold air coming from the vents in the ceiling. Elias could feel the heat of Logan's fever when he touched his forehead.

Logan needed help or he was going to die. Elias wasn't sure how he'd get that help but he knew he had to do something. He left the room and found the break room on the upper level of the cellar. He'd gone out several times when Logan was sleeping to map out the cellar and the hotel above. He knew that Rorke had been away since bringing Logan here. There were two guards playing poker on a card table in the break room. There was a security monitor on the wall. The monitor clearly showed a night-vision view of Logan's cell. Elias looked at the controls there. They had normal light, infrared and night-vision. Infrared might be helpful. He needed to get the guards' attention and then change that setting.

He thought back to the plane. Electricity. He could affect electricity. Then he remembered the old ghost hunter shows the boys used to watch now and then. Camera batteries would drain when a "ghost" was near. Maybe he could get energy from batteries. Both guards had radios. Radios would need batteries. Elias squatted down next to one of the guards and put his hand on the radio.

It felt like a soft buzz. He looked at the chips stacked on the table and decided to give it a try. He flicked three chips off the top of one stack and sent them flying across the table to smack the other guard in the hand.

Elias couldn't reach the monitor while touching the radio. Was the energy residual? Would it last when he left the source? For how long? He had to try. So he moved to the monitor and touched the control for infrared. The guards now were arguing loudly about who had done what to whom. Elias tapped the monitor and was very glad to hear a sound.

 _"¿Qué?_ " One of the guards got up from his chair. " _Comprobar el aire acondicionado._ "

The other guard moved to another computer. " _Esta encendido._ "

" _Entonces ¿por qué es el prisionero tan caliente?_ " The first asked. Elias was glad he had raised his family in California. He wasn't fluent but he understood enough. The guards had got the idea. Logan was hot even though the air conditioning was still on.

They left the room and Elias followed them to his son's cell. One opened the door and the other went in and put the back of his hand to Logan's forehead. " _Tenemos que llamer Rorke._ "

"Not Rorke," Elias told them, though he was pretty sure they wouldn't hear. "A doctor. He needs a doctor!"

Elias waited for hours at Logan's side. It might have been the all through the night. There were no windows in the cell to count the days. Logan was half-delirious now. He thought he was late for school or complained that Hesh wasn't playing fair. But he didn't use his hands to say it. So he was still there enough to know that he could just think and his father would hear.

Finally, the door opened. Rorke was there with another man in a white coat. The doctor carried a bag and stepped into the cell.

"Is it contagious and is he dying?" Rorke asked, more as an order than a real question.

The doctor ignored him and started checking Logan. Logan didn't resist or even really react. He was too weak. The doctor checked his temperature and listened to his lungs.

"It's not contagious, señor. It's pneumonia. And yes, if not treated, he will die."

"I need him alive. Not well, but alive."

The doctor stood. "I'll need to go into town to get the antibiotics. In the meantime, turn off this air conditioning and get him a blanket."

"Shall I get him a bed, too, maybe a nurse to feed him and tuck him in?"

The doctor stood up straighter. Elias decided he kind of liked this doctor. "I am a doctor, Señor. You'll have to find someone else to torture the boy. I took an oath to do no harm. But if you want this boy to live, you'll need to lay off him for at least a week. His body is already weak and the antibiotics work best with a strong body. You can't weaken him further. He needs water and good food."

Rorke glared then looked back at Logan. He really did look pitiful lying there on the floor, curled in a ball on his side. "Fine, but only so it's certain he'll survive. He does not have to be healthy."

Elias decided to follow the doctor into town. Maybe he could learn what town it was. But before he left, he knelt down and touched his son's face. "You caught a break, Logan."

 _I don't feel good,_ Logan replied.

"I know, but you'll feel better soon. I'm going to follow that doctor. I'll be back soon, I promise."

Logan didn't reply but started coughing again. It racked his whole body. Elias kissed his son's forehead and then hurried upstairs.

* * *

Logan wasn't comfortable. But he felt better than he had since before his last mission. He was propped up in the corner of his cell. The cough wasn't gone but his coughing fits didn't last as long and weren't as deep. He was more aware of his surroundings. The light in his room was bearable and not overly bright. The air conditioning was off and the blanket he was wrapped in was warm if not soft. And best of all, his stomach was full.

It had been good, pure food. In the last four days, he'd had papaya and mango, apples and pears, tomatoes and potatoes and even some chicken and pork. None of it poisoned. He had three water bottles every day.

Dad told him he could enjoy this. This wasn't a trick. The pneumonia had almost killed him. So it was just a break from Rorke. That meant the future was just as bleak as the last few months had been. But he couldn't help feeling a bit more optimistic. He and Dad talked about better times, back before the war. And Dad told him about his trip to town with the doctor. Chachagüí, Colombia. That's where he was.

Dad also told him about his exploits in ghosthood. He had absorbed the energy from one of the guard's radios and had moved things. Whenever a guard came in to feed him, Dad did it again. And he'd mess with them. He pulled their hair, pinched them. He even tripped one in the hallway. Logan laughed to see that now they were playing mind games on the guards, instead of the other way around.

"But how do I use this to get you out of here?" Dad asked. "Even if I were able to get a key and unlock the door, I don't think you could get up those stairs. And if you got up those stairs, where would you go with no exfil or transport?"

 _Maybe you can tell Hesh where we are._

That got Dad thinking. He'd have to do more experimenting.

* * *

The war was progressing. When they had taken over the missile system in orbit and devastated the Federation fleet and holdings on the Chilean coast, the Federation had foundered. It didn't fold. But it wasn't the powerhouse it once was. They had lost their main source of fuel in the Arctic and a good number of ships from their fleet. Victory by victory, they were being pushed back.

Keegan hoped they could just keep pushing. Every bit of territory they took meant less territory for them to hide Logan in. Canada had recently signed a treaty with the US. They were going to contribute their forces to help hold the southern US border, so the US could concentrate on taking the fight deeper into Fed territory without worrying about leaving home unguarded. That was a big win.

So good news on the big fronts. But still no news on the smaller one that meant so much to the Ghosts. It had been eighteen days since the airfield and there had been no more clues, no more taunts from Rorke. Hesh's mood was getting worse and worse. To his credit, Keegan thought, he didn't let it affect him during a mission. Hesh was able to focus and get the mission finished. He hacked every computer he could get at, hoping for word of Logan or Rorke or both. Riley went with him and sniffed the grounds. They all hoped they'd just luck upon their youngest member one day.

They'd been called out after six weeks looking for Rorke. But now Rorke was such a threat that NORAD gave them leeway to keep looking so long as their actions didn't conflict with the aims of Command. Merrick had the job of negotiating that. He didn't like it. He called them pencil-pushing generals. Keegan was just glad it wasn't him. Merrick at least had found them a nice home base. It had been a church once upon a time in the recently retaken San Diego. It had been a forward-thinking congregation it seemed, as it was decked out on the roof with solar panels. It was far enough out of town not to take major damage from ODIN. They had enough land for a small air base. They kept their heavy equipment out there, which included two transport helicopters. They were Kick's pride and joy.

They set up the ward room in the back office with comms in the outer office. Larger rooms held multiple bunks while smaller ones went to the team leaders. Hesh insisted on a second bed in his. It was cramped but no one argued. It was for Logan. Their room was near a back door and Merrick had put in a doggy door there for Riley. Keegan wasn't really a dog person, himself, but he loved that dog. Riley was a silly German Shepherd in downtime, but he was a smart attack dog during missions. He was definitely Ghost material.

There was a kitchen off the fellowship hall so meals were had in there. In between meals, the tables were put away and the floor became a basketball court. That helped to blow off steam. Keegan was throwing free throws as Merrick came in. "I could really use a stiff drink. But I guess I'll have to settle for bad coffee."

"That bad?" Keegan asked as he sunk a three-pointer. He really hoped Merrick wouldn't give him a detailed description.

"Let's just say, I miss Elias. He made this look easy."

Keegan let the ball go and pulled out a table. Merrick got the chairs. "I've been thinking about Rorke," he said. "Elias even said it: If they can break Rorke, they can break anyone. How's Logan supposed to resist that?"

Merrick hadn't seen it but Hesh had walked in just then. He stopped in the doorway behind Merrick. Keegan turned back to Merrick. But he made sure to speak loud enough for Hesh to hear. "Logan has something Rorke didn't have. And Rorke has something Logan didn't. Rorke felt betrayed, so he had betrayal and they could work with that. Logan has family, and they have to work against that."

Merrick nodded and Hesh came on in the room, took out a chair and brought it to the table.

"I've been thinking about it, too," Hesh said as he dropped into the chair. "How do you turn someone who doesn't have a voice?"

* * *

"You must not be doing it right because he hasn't even screamed yet!" Rorke yelled as he strutted into the room. Elias glared at him. His son was strapped to a chair, bleeding here and there from superficial, though very painful, wounds.

"He has been screaming. You haven't been here."

"Then why haven't I heard it? Why has Sanchez been reporting to me that he hasn't made a sound. He's showing you up."

Elias wasn't sure yet if Logan had passed out. His head was down and his hair, having grown out these last several months, was covering his face.

"I'm telling you-," the lackey began.

"Enough!" Rorke interrupted him took a pair of pliers out of his pocket. "I'll bet you I can get a sound out him." The lackey snorted and left the room.

Rorke lifted Logan's head by his hair. "You're going to scream for me, boy" he told him.

Elias was furious but he felt so helpless. He couldn't hit Rorke or stop him. He couldn't loosen the straps, he couldn't protect his son. Rorke lifted Logan's left hand, stretching the restraint as he took Logan's pinky. He used the pliers to grab his fingernail, which, of course, had also grown, making it easier for Rorke to grip. He slowly lifted it back toward the back of Logan's hand until the fingernail began to rip from the nailbed.

And Logan screamed. Elias heard it. But he knew no one else did. Elias did the only thing he could do. He knelt behind the chair and wrapped his arms around his son. Rorke proceeded to rip out the other nine fingernails but he still wasn't satisfied.

Rorke put his face right in front of Logan's. "Do you really think you're stronger than me?"

Logan, of course, said nothing. But he glared.

Rorke hurrumphed. "You know, that arm of yours didn't heal right. We'll have to try again." He unstrapped Logan's left arm, forced it out straight palm down. Then he slammed his other fist down right where it was broken before. This time, he watched Logan's face. He dropped the arm and stomped out of the room. "Take him back to his room," he ordered someone out in the hall. "And try not to be gentle with that arm!"

Logan had no resistance to give as they dragged him by his shoulder back to his dark cell and threw him inside. Logan curled into a ball, cradling his arm and sobbed. Elias knelt at his son's head and rubbed his back. He'd stay with him until he was out. Then he was going to go experimenting. Because someday, he was going to make Rorke pay.

* * *

"Not at all?" Keegan asked.

Merrick was taken aback, too. "I just thought he was shy. Didn't talk unless he had something needing saying."

Hesh smiled. "That's what he wanted everyone to think. He didn't want to stand out. It was tough back in school." It hurt but it also felt good to talk about Logan before he was taken, to remember his brother free.

"Was he born that way?" Merrick asked. "He's clearly not deaf."

Hesh shook his head. "It was an accident. Well, a drunk driver. And a hit and run. Mom was picking him up from daycare. I was in kindergarten so I didn't need daycare. He was still a toddler. They couldn't see the crash from the road, so it took them awhile to reach the car. When they did, they found it upside down. Logan was still in his car seat but the hood of the car was bent and broken and part of it was jammed up into Logan's throat." He lifted his chin and pointed to where his vocal cords were. "He was stuck like that. His breathing was restricted to a fraction of his windpipe. He wasn't even crying. He was in survival mode."

Keegan lowered his voice, "I take it your mom didn't make it."

Hesh shook his head. He reached into his shirt and pulled out a small vial on a chain. Inside it was a few dozen strands of blond hair. "Just Logan. He had a handful of her hair. They had to cut the hair to get him out because he just wouldn't let go. We split it. He had the other half."

"Does he sign," Merrick asked, changing the subject.

Hesh grinned again. "Only when he has something needing saying." He sighed, "But then he didn't most of the time. Dad and I just got him, you know."

* * *

The light came on and the door opened. Rorke was alone. Elias glared at him. He stomped over to Logan, straddling him and lifted him by his hair until he could hold Logan's head in his hand. "I _will_ make you talk," he told him. Logan began to shake. "You're gonna squeal for me, boy, if it takes years! Because, you and I, we got all the time in the world." Then he let Logan drop. Logan scrambled back as far as he could go and Rorke stalked back out. Elias heard the lock click shut and the cell went dark again.

To Be Continued...  
Please review so I don't feel I'm writing this in a complete vacuum. I feel almost as lonely as Logan in that pit. I will not hold chapters for ransome though, fear not. I can't wait to work on Chapter 3.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: I learned something new that blew my mind. When I found the Rorke files and listened to them all, I heard one where Rorke said "the boss" wanted Logan Walker. I always thought Rorke was "the boss." In the Sin City mission, a lackey is heard telling the others that "the boss" wanted the youngest kept alive. It certainly seemed to be Rorke at the time. But it turns out Rorke is working for someone else who wants another Ghost, even if it costs a hundred men their lives. This changes everything. This changes how this story will end. On the other hand, it might make this story shorter. If you recall, I didn't know when the story would end. How far on the other side of things I should go. Now I think I know how far I'll have to go.

More Than a Ghost  
by Philippe de la Matraque

Chapter Three

Elias waited until Logan fell into a tormented sleep. He didn't think his heart could hurt so much after he was dead but it broke every time he saw his boy suffer. He hated to leave him but had to trust he'd be left alone for the night. Tonight, he had to try to get to Hesh. Maybe Hesh could hear and see him like Logan could.

Elias stepped through the door and into the hall to concentrate. He closed his eyes and tried picture his older son. It wasn't hard. He was a little taller than Logan, with darker hair. He walked with confidence and courage in his step. Logan had done that, too. Before this. _No,_ he told himself. _Concentrate on Hesh. David._

He pictured him in his gear, playing fetch with Riley. When he opened his eyes, he found he was no longer in the hall. He was in a small room with two beds, but only one was occupied. It was Hesh. He'd done it. Riley beside him sat up and gave a yelp, then proceeded to wag his tail furiously. That woke Hesh and Elias smiled. "Riley sees me, do you?" he asked his son.

"What are you barking about?" Hesh asked the dog as he sleepily patted its head. "It's the middle of the night. Get some sleep."

Hesh didn't hear him. He didn't see him. Elias began to worry that he'd be no easier than Rorke. He reached out to shake Hesh but his hand went through him to the bed. _Damn,_ he thought.

Then he thought that maybe he could use the dog. Elias stepped back as far as he could. "Riley, heel."

The dog dutifully jumped down from the bed and padded over to him. "Good boy," Elias told him. "Riley, speak."

Riley barked, and Hesh threw a pillow at him. Elias found his watch on the bedside table and saw it was only 0100 hours. Hesh would be asleep for a long time still. He couldn't stay away from Logan until morning. He sighed. Maybe that's all he could accomplish tonight. He got here and he got the dog. He'd have to figure out how best to use the dog and how to let Hesh know where Logan was.

He closed his eyes again and pictured his younger son and when he opened his eyes, he'd returned to the cell. He sat down by his boy and lifted him until he could lay Logan's head on his lap. Logan was so exhausted that he fell right back to sleep. Elias knew there was a camera in the ceiling. Well, let them wonder about how Logan could sleep with his head up on nothing. He wanted them to think there was something else in the cell. He wanted them to be afraid.

* * *

Keegan took the call since Merrick was at Command. "We've got a crate says it's supposed to go to you."

Keegan wasn't aware of any new supplies due. "What crate? Where'd it come from."

"A remote control boat, floated it on to the beach here in Santa Monica. Raised quite an alarm. The crate was the only thing in the boat and there's nothing in the crate."

"Why would someone send us an empty crate?" Keegan asked. But he had a creeping feeling about who had sent it. Empty crate equals cryptic. That meant Rorke. "Were you able to backtrack the boat?"

"Only to forty miles out to sea. Could of been on a sub."

Keegan sighed. Yep, Rorke. "Never mind, just get it here ASAP."

The crate arrived within the hour. Keegan called Hesh and told him to bring the mask and Riley. Hesh ran up with the dog but stopped when he saw the crate. He leaned in and looked through the slats. "There's nothing in there."

"I got a feeling," Keegan told him. He used bolt cutters to cut the padlock off the top. The side fell open. "You got the mask?"

Hesh's face took on a knowing look. He took out the mask and held it out for Riley to sniff. "Riley, find Logan."

It took Riley all of five seconds to find Logan's scent in the crate. Hesh cursed. "So that's how they moved him. Like an animal."

Keegan looked to the soldier who delivered the crate. "Burn it."

* * *

"I sent your buddies a present," Rorke taunted. "The box you arrived in. Surely that dog of yours would recognize your stench."

He walked around the table and stared down at Logan. "Wanted to tempt them into looking for you. But they've given up. It's been four months already. Even your brother has given up on you by now."

"That's not true, Logan. You're a Ghost and they won't leave you behind. Hesh will never stop looking."

Logan wanted to believe his dad. It wasn't always easy. It had been four months after all. But the alternative was becoming like Rorke and he absolutely didn't want that. He tried to show Rorke a strong face but he was terrified. They had him strapped to that metal table. It was hard and cold on his back and the back of his legs. They had taken the hospital gown but had left the boxers. That was something.

"All ya gotta do is tell me your name and I'll stop these guys."

There were three other guys. Two of them had knives. The last guy, he had jumper cables. Logan followed the cables to an old car battery on a table a few feet away. Rorke knew his name. And he should have figured out by now that Logan didn't talk, couldn't talk. Not for as long as he could remember.

His father was with the battery. Logan hoped he could suck all the juice out of it.

Rorke nodded to the first guy, one of the ones with a knife. Logan held his breath and clenched his teeth as the man sliced into his broken arm. Logan hadn't seen the third guy approach. He was just there all the sudden. And he put the jumper cable clamps right into the cut the first guy was holding open. He was wearing rubber gloves. Logan didn't have that luxury. The pain was exquisite and he screamed as it shook his whole body. He couldn't breathe. He could see smoke coming from his arm.

Finally Number 3 lifted the cables and Logan gulped for air.

"Just your name," Rorke told him. "Or any word for that matter. Tell me to fuck off. I don't care."

"He can't, you bastard!" His father yelled.

Rorke nodded to number 2. Number 2 decided the inside of his thigh was the place to go. He made a long cut, very slowly. Logan's hands gripped the side of the table hard but he couldn't get away. He couldn't kick, he couldn't do anything except turn his head.

Number 3 approached again, but then something happened. The cables hit him in the face. They clamped on his nose. And he began scream. Number 2 stepped back in fear. Number 1 was watching Number 3. He wasn't paying attention to his knife. His knife hand came straight up and stabbed him in the eye. He dropped.

"What the hell?!" Rorke screamed. He took the clamps off Number 3 and approached Logan so fast, his father couldn't react. Logan screamed as the teeth of the clamps bit into the exposed muscle in his leg. It hurt so much he couldn't see anymore. He didn't know what was happening around him anymore. Then the electric pain coursing through him drained off. Logan breathed again and again. Faster and faster. He felt hands cupping over his nose and mouth.

"Deep breaths, Logan." It was Dad.

"Shit!" Rorke cursed. Logan didn't watch anymore. He focused on his father's face above his. "Get that doctor in here."

There was commotion, then a familiar, heavily-accented voice. "I told you, Señor. I took an oath."

Rorke pushed him into the table. "I'm not asking you to. Sew him up."

"He needs anesth-"

"No, he does not!" Rorke interrupted. "Sew him up without or leave him bleeding on that table."

 _If you suffocate me, will I stay out?_ Logan asked his father.

"Not long enough."

But Logan found the pin-pricks of the needle hurt so much less than what he'd already felt that it increased his pain only a little. He squeezed his eyes shut and held hard to his father's hand.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do more, Logan."

Logan shook his head. He'd taken out two men. Unfortunately, neither was Rorke. Logan's vision went fuzzy and then black.

* * *

Hesh was in a really bad mood. He had climbed up the old bell tower to just get away from everyone and everything. He felt like another part of himself had died. The first was when his father was killed. The second was watching Logan being dragged away. But every month, every milestone when they still didn't have him back was another piece dying.

Four months. They'd had at least thirty missions in those four months. And not once had they found any sign of Logan that Rorke didn't want them to see.

"Hesh, dinner!" That was Kick. Turns out he was the best cook of all the Ghosts. Hesh didn't move. He never wanted to move again unless it was to go get his brother. Of course, they didn't have any idea where he was. The Federation still held most of South America. Logan could be anywhere.

The hatch opened in the floor and the bald head of Merrick came through it. At first he said nothing. He just climbed up and stood beside and to the front of Hesh, staring out at the airfield. "You're letting him torture you, too."

Hesh looked at him sharply.

Merrick turned around and rubbed one hand on his head. "I'm not going to tell you to buck up and stop feeling like shit. We all feel like shit. We know he has him and he's not being nice. Or he is and he's turning him to hunt us down. But he's taunting us. He's turning the screws in us just as he's doing it to your brother. You can't just dwell on it. You gotta live and you have to stay strong. Because we _are_ going to find your brother, and you're going to want to be the guy that brings him out."

"It's been four months," Hesh said.

"One hundred twenty-three days actually. I know. I've marked every one of them."

Hesh looked away again. "It's his birthday, today."

Merrick was quiet a moment. Then he surprised Hesh. "There's someone I want you to meet downstairs. Let's go."

Hesh reluctantly got to his feet. "Who is it?"

"We got us a chaplain. Seems she requested the position. She heard we were set up in a church."

"And you let her in?" Hesh asked as the got on the ladder after Merrick.

"I figured we could all use a bit more hope."

* * *

Estelle stood uncomfortably in front of a group of tables surrounded by a bunch of really big guys. She'd learned who the Ghosts were and requested this posting. These were the guys who went on suicide missions and survived. These guys probably carried all their hurts behind their stony faces, and turned it to determination to defend their country and take out the enemy.

Captain Merrick stood beside her and called the room to attention. Thirty men stood up and the room became silent. "As you were," he said and they sat, but turned all their attention to him, and to her. "I want to introduce you all to our new chaplain, Rev. Estelle Sawyer"

Estelle smiled and bowed slightly. "Thank you, Captain Merrick. I look forward to meeting you all more personally. And I want you to know right from the start, I don't push my faith on other people. I did not come to preach but to serve." She shrugged. "I may preach anyway. It's in my job description. But you are not required to attend. I grew up in a deaf family. I'm used to being the only voice in a quiet room. But if you want to talk, to pray, to express your faith, I'll be here."

Captain Merrick thanked her. "I think right now, we could use a prayer. We lost one of our team four months ago. He's being held in horrendous conditions by a sadistic enemy. We could use all the help we can get."

Estelle knew he was saying that more for the men. She'd already heard about the young man who was taken. She got a brief before she met with his brother. She could tell it was hitting him especially hard. "I'd be glad to," she said. "If you'll bow your heads."

Once more, thirty men stood and became silent. Every head was bowed.

"Dear heavenly Father, we ask you to watch over Logan Walker in his time of trial. Strengthen his heart and give him hope that never waivers. Bring him comfort when he's afraid and above all, let him always know that he is loved and dearly missed. Please also, Lord Jesus, be with these men who grieve for him. Set before them a happy day when they shall find their lost one and bring him home. Lead them in ways the world cannot, so that they can find him before another month passes. We pray also for their enemy, that they should find the light and turn from their wicked ways so that this world could have peace. Until that day, keep them strong, keep them focused and help them to defeat evil and return from their missions, every one of them. Amen."

Estelle brushed away a tear and took the seat Captain Merrick offered her at the table with Logan's brother, David, and several others. David didn't say much and kept his head down as he ate. The talk around the table was light but subdued. When David stood up to leave, Estelle excused herself.

She caught up to him at the staircase that led upstairs. "I have something for you," she said.

* * *

Hesh turned. "Thanks," he sniffed. "For what you said in there."

She took something from her back pocket and handed it to him. It was a birthday card. Then she handed him a pen. "Write him something."

Hesh felt the tears well up in his eyes. "He's not here," he choked out.

She tilted her head with a soft smile. "But he will be, and won't it be nice when he sees you remembered his birthday? And won't he feel loved when he reads what you wrote?"

She smiled again. "I heard Kick has made brownies. I'm a sucker for brownies. Good night, David."

She turned to go and Hesh said, "My friends call me Hesh."

She turned back. "I know. But David, ah David, he was the one to stand up to that giant with nothing but a sling and stone. He won, you know." She gave him another smile then turned back to the fellowship hall.

Hesh went up to his room and wrote a long letter to his brother. Then he wished him a quiet Happy Birthday. He locked his room, hugged Riley close and cried.

* * *

Two guards came to the door to get Logan. There was a third man in the hall but it wasn't Rorke. Rorke was gone. Elias had checked. This was Sanchez. Rorke's top man. Elias wanted to go back and try to see Hesh again but Logan needed him more after his last interrogation. So when he was out, Elias had wandered the whole hotel, learning its layout and the main players.

Sanchez reported directly to Rorke. He was supposed to keep the pressure on Logan while Rorke was away. Elias hoped he could change that. He quickly drained the batteries in the guards' radios and flashlights. Then he went straight for Sanchez. He threw his whole body at the man, sending him crashing into the wall behind him. The man's head hit with a rewarding thunk. He slid unconscious down the wall.

Elias then turned to the guards. He kicked out and tripped the one on the left. The other one took off running. Elias moved to swipe the keys from Sanchez's belt but his hand went through them. Those batteries didn't last very long. The remaining guard slapped Sanchez on the face to rouse him. " _Hay algo aquí abajo!_ "

Good, he was scared. Sanchez shook his head to clear it. "What hit me?" he asked, in English.

The guard responded in kind, "The thing! Whatever is down here. It's haunted."

"There's no such thing as ghosts," Sanchez retorted. "Well, not that kind."

"Something invisible threw you into that wall and tripped me. It attacked Jose and Alejandro in front of Mr. Rorke. Alejandro lost an eye!"

" _Me duela la cabeza!_ " Sanchez complained, switching back to Spanish as he held the back of his head. "We'll wait until morning. Maybe it will be gone."

"Not a chance!" Elias said. He was getting through to them. He slipped back through Logan's door. He'd have to do some haunting tomorrow. But right now, he had bought Logan some time and that meant, with Logan sleeping, he had some time to haunt Hesh.

He closed his eyes and thought hard of his oldest son. He opened his eyes and found himself in a command center. Hesh, Keegan, and Kick were getting briefed on their next mission. Elias hated to interrupt something as important as that, but what he had to do was important, too. Elias stood near the monitors. He could feel a buzz coming from them. It wasn't as strong as the buzz from a battery, but he hoped it was enough to get their attention.

Elias tried putting his hands into one monitor. He was rewarded with a clear distortion. He moved his hands around and the picture turned completely to static.

"What's with that?" Kick asked. Elias looked behind him at their reaction and moved his hands again.

"Screen must be on the fritz," Keegan replied. "We'll have to get tech on it when we're gone."

Elias sighed. He moved to the next screen and put one hand through it. Both screens turned to static.

"That one, too?" Hesh asked. "It's almost like something's interfering with it." Well, Hesh was quiet tech savvy. He reached back and unplugged the first monitor. Elias was quite relieved to see the screen stay lit with nothing but snow. Maybe he was channeling the power somehow.

"That's odd," Hesh said. He stepped back again.

Elias let that monitor blink out then moved to a third. They had to think it was more than technical. Then he got an idea. "Riley!" he screamed. "Riley, come!" He hoped the dog was close enough to hear him.

Riley nearly tripped Kick as he ran in. He stopped right behind Elias. "Riley, sit." He sat. "Riley, speak!" Riley barked.

Hesh looked very confused. "Riley, come here."

Riley looked at Hesh and started to move. "Riley, sit!" Elias commanded. The dog turned back and sat.

Merrick suggested they move to the wardroom and leave the dog where he was. Elias let go of the monitors and they popped back to their proper views. As the others started into the door to the back of the room, Elias hurried through the wall and called out, "Riley, heel!"

Riley pushed past Keegan and came right to Elias. "Good boy, Riley." The dog grinned and wagged his tail.

"I did not invite the dog," Merrick said.

"I did," Elias retorted. "I need him." Here there was a large desk and a lot of bookshelves with various tablets and tools. Elias really wished they still used paper maps. He could maybe find enough energy to manipulate paper. Very quickly, Elias looked through the drawers of the desk. In the bottom right drawer he found something useful. A flashlight. He drained the batteries and then pulled out Merrick's chair just as he was sitting. Merrick fell on his ass. Elias laughed. This was actually kind of fun. "Riley, give Merrick some kisses." Riley was such a smart dog. He dutifully came around the desk and licked Merrick's face.

"I do _not_ know what is going on here, but we have a briefing to finish! And we're going to finish it!" He pushed the dog away then used the desk to pull himself up. "Then we're going to get some sleep before we head out at 0400."

Something tickled at the back of Elias's head. He suddenly felt like he had to get back. Logan needed him. Well, he'd made a good start here. Besides, he didn't want to endanger the mission. Hesh could get hurt. Or one of the others. They were still his men. He closed his eyes and thought of Logan and found himself back in the cell.

 _I couldn't see you,_ Logan thought, in a panic.

"I went to see Hesh while you were sleeping," Elias told him. "He wasn't asleep this time. And he wasn't alone. I got their attention but I don't think they're ready to think 'ghost' yet. A couple of the guards are though."

Logan relaxed, as much as he could with his angry wounds. Elias worried they were getting infected. _Tell me,_ Logan requested.

Elias sat and pulled his son over so he could lay his head on his lap. "Okay, but then you need to sleep. They won't bother you tonight."

* * *

The mission had gone off without a hitch and the team was back at base within seventy-two hours. Keegan thought it felt good to have a place to come home to. It'd been a very long time since he'd had that luxury. He was a little uneasy though as they debriefed JSOC in the comm center. He watched the monitors carefully while Merrick did the talking. They seemed fine.

Keegan left Merrick when he saw the chaplain in the hall. Estelle, as she insisted on being called, was a character; that was sure. Before they'd left he and Hesh had found her changing the WOMEN sign on the ladies' restroom downstairs to a Ghost emblem.

Keegan had asked her what she was doing. She turned and smiled. "Well, seeing as I'm the only female on base, I really don't need two restrooms. And seeing as my domain is really the sanctuary, I'll take the one upstairs. Except on Friday evening." She flipped the Ghost sign around and it now said, "Estelle".

"What happens on Friday evening," Hesh had asked.

"Even women need showers, David."

That hadn't satisfied Hesh. "Just once a week."

Estelle had then draped her arms over both their shoulders. "Do I stink?"

They looked at each other then at her. "No," Keegan replied. And it was true. "But it's only Tuesday."

"I didn't get my shower last Friday." She let them go. "You see, I don't get stinky. I do get more hairy than I'd like though." She turned the sign back around. "You men run, you sweat. You need daily showers. I walk-I walk very fast-but I hate sweat and I endeavor to do it as little as possible. Besides, it saves on water."

With that she smiled and walked away.

Hesh had looked at Keegan after that. "I realize haven't seen a lot of woman since the war began. Are they all like that?"

Keegan just laughed. And he'd realized then that it had been a very long time since he'd laughed. It felt good. Estelle had brought that back.

He left the comm center to catch her. "Do you know if the tech came to look at the monitors?" he asked. She was often in the comm center, keeping up her religious studies and checking in with her superiors in the Chaplain service.

"Yes," she told him. "And they wanted me to tell you to stop wasting their time. They were really rather snippy. I told them I'd pray for them. They looked more contrite after that."

Keegan thanked her and then went back in as Merrick was finishing up. "Tech looked at the monitors. Nothing was wrong with them."

* * *

Sanchez was stressed. He was yelling and Elias didn't like what he was hearing. "I don't care if you're scared of what is down there. I'm more scared of Rorke. He expects a report and he's going to know if I'm lying about it. And I will definitely point the finger at one of you!"

This was not good. Elias hurried downstairs. They were coming for Logan. He had bought Logan three days. Three days when they left him alone. They only unlocked his door to put in a plate of food and take the old one away. Still, Elias took the opportunity to reinforce their fears by using their batteries up and kicking, pinching, throwing empty plates, etc. He'd found them upstairs arguing about who had to feed the prisoner.

But they were all more scared of Rorke than a ghost. Sanchez clearly was. The darkness in Logan's cell vanished and Logan held up a hand to block his eyes. It was very bright, and that was never a good sign. Sanchez stepped brazenly in and tied Logan's hands. Elias tried to scare him again to back him off. He found the radios and pushed Sanchez to the other wall beside the toilet.

"Get him out!" Sanchez ordered even as he crawled back to the door and stood up in the hall.

The two guards were wide-eyed and didn't move.

"Now!" Sanchez ordered. Elias's energy was spent. He managed to nudge a guard but he righted himself and grabbed one of Logan's feet. The other guard found his courage and did likewise and they dragged Logan from his cell.

They strapped him to the chair and took turns punching him in the face or stomach. It was light, compared to what had been done, but Elias knew it was still extremely hard on his son. Sanchez half-heartedly attempted to get him to talk. He apparently accepted the fact that it was pointless. But he ordered more beating anyway. When Logan passed out, they put a hypodermic needle in his arm. He roused.

Sanchez put more conviction into the statements meant to sap Logan's hope. "Where are your friends? You've been here more than a month already," Sanchez teased. "They stopped looking months ago."

"They haven't," Elias countered. Logan's eyes were swelling. His lips and nose were bleeding.

"Even your brother has forgotten about you," Sanchez tried. "He didn't even send a birthday card."

"He doesn't know the address," Elias told Sanchez. "But he will. I'll tell him. I will figure out a way."

"Besides," Sanchez continued. "Where do you think Mr. Rorke went? He went to hunt him."

Elias had no counter to that. He had faith in Hesh though, faith the in the Ghosts. Rorke wouldn't catch them again.

"You're never going to leave this place. You belong to Rorke now."

"I'm getting close, Logan. Hesh is going to find you. I promise!"

Sanchez gave up five minutes later. "Take him back," he ordered. "I'll go write my report." Logan was unconscious again as they dragged him back to his cell.

* * *

Thanks for the reviews. They mean a lot. BTW: Cat Person is my 14-year-old daughter and it turns out she's _very_ squeamish. But hey, getting Logan out of the position he was in at the end of the game too easy would be a cop out. This is not going to be easy. She may actually get sick in Chapter 4.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: I'm rethinking. Maybe it doesn't have to go the way I thought. Even if there is a boss above Rorke... Oh, I don't want to spoil.

P.S. Thanks to Guest. I fixed chapter 3. That's what one missing sign will do to you.

More Than a Ghost  
by Philippe de la Matraque

Chapter Four

Logan woke because someone was screaming. It was blood-curdling. He knew it wasn't him and he thought for a minute that he should be glad. But his chest seemed to clinch and it was hard to breathe. He sat up and shook, eyes wide in the darkness.

"I can go see," Logan's Dad offered.

Logan shook his head. Dad instead moved closer and put his arm around Logan's shoulders. Together they listened. It might have been an hour. It might have been longer. The screaming stopped. There was silence and Logan didn't like it.

He jumped when there were thuds on the door. "Your turn!" Rorke screamed.

Dad got up and slipped into the hall. There was a scuffle and someone screamed. Then there was a gunshot. "You're next! Anyone else wanna run? I ain't afraid of no ghost. Hell, I was a ghost!"

The lights snapped on, blinding Logan. He held up his good arm to block it. Rorke took it and lifted him as if he were no heavier than a doll. Pain exploded in Logan's head and shoulder as Rorke slammed him into a wall.

"How about this, Elias," He yelled. "You keep haunting my men, and I'll keep hurting your son."

 _He's going to anyway, Dad._

"It is you, isn't it?" Rorke called out. He stepped on Logan's broken arm to keep him pinned to the floor. Logan couldn't see anymore. The pain was everything. "You never hurt the boy. It has to be you."

The pressure lifted off his arm and Logan was able to see his dad shove Rorke off him.

Rorke surprised him then. He just laughed. "You actually became a real ghost. That's priceless!"

Dad swung again but his arm went right through Rorke. He was spent. "I'm sorry, Logan."

 _Go to Hesh,_ Logan cried. _Make him listen!_

"I can't leave you," Dad said.

Rorke picked him up by his right arm, thankfully above the break, and began dragging him off to one of those other rooms he hated so badly. _Go!_

Dad didn't listen. Logan saw him come in the room as they were strapping Logan into the chair.

"Bring him closer," Rorke ordered.

When the chair stopped moving, Logan was nearly face to face with one of the guards. He'd been stripped and was hanging by his ankles. There was high ceiling here and Logan could see the rails from the next level up in a square around the man's ankles. The man's eyes were wide with fear.

The rest of the guards were crowded into the room around him. Rorke was speaking to them. "You will do your duty, ghost or no ghost. You will do as you are ordered. If you do not, your fate will be worse than our young friend's here. Because he has to live through this."

Sweat dripped onto Logan's knees from the man's forehead. The Rorke told two others to begin. These two were dressed in large aprons, like a butcher might wear. They had long knives with thin blades. They started high, reaching up toward the man's ankles. And they stripped the skin off with calm, deliberate strokes. The man screamed and writhed, but he couldn't move much. Logan could see his hands were tied, too, to a small metal hoop on the floor. He was stretched tight. Now blood was dripping onto Logan's knees.

Rorke nearly knocked the chair backwards as he jerked it back about a foot. The straps bit into Logan's broken arm. Logan couldn't feel good about the guard, even though the guard had been an enemy. What he was witnessing was sadistic and agonizing. And he was terrified that Rorke meant to do that to him.

"He can't," Dad said, kneeling beside him. "You'd die. He can't flay all your skin off."

Dad was right but Logan wasn't sure until what seemed hours later. The man stopped screaming. He stopped writhing. He stopped moving at all. There were large sections of flesh still covered with skin. They'd stripped his legs and his lower torso before he'd died. Logan wondered if his heart had given out or if it was the blood loss.

 _Dad, go,_ he begged. _Please. Make Hesh understand. He has to come soon!_

"You watching, Elias?" Rorke asked. "We've got something special planned for your boy."

"Logan, I can't," Elias said. He touched his cheek.

 _You have to,_ Logan said. _I'll hold on. I'll try to be strong. I promise._

"You are strong, Logan," his father told him. "I love you so much." Dad disappeared.

* * *

Elias snapped into a dark room. His son was asleep on his stomach. Riley wasn't there. He tried to touch Hesh but it still didn't work. Nearly in a panic, Elias explored the base, trying to find someone awake. He thought of the comm center but he did not want to affect the base's mission readiness. That would endanger Hesh and the others. And he couldn't do that. He had gone downstairs when the prickling came to the back of his head. He saw the kitchen and headed in there. He was surprised when he had to push the door open. He touched a cabinet and felt its texture.

This was not fair. He threw open the cabinets and knocked dishes to the floor. He turned on the water, pulled open every drawer. He pulled out pans and threw them onto the floor. Why couldn't he do this with Rorke or Sanchez or any of the others where Logan was? Why couldn't he touch Hesh like he touched Logan? Why couldn't he make his son hear him the way Logan did? But he knew Hesh could hear him now, they all could.

Lights came on and men converged on the kitchen. Elias could hear them. He threw up the screen over the counter and looked at their faces. They were in their underwear. He'd woken them up. He didn't see Hesh. He didn't know all these men. The men had their guns drawn. But they didn't see him. They saw what he did. One of them entered the kitchen. Elias threw a plate at him. He probably shouldn't have done that. The man was surprised and his gun went off. A bullet flew right through Elias and embedded in the wall behind him.

"What the hell?"

Merrick. Hesh was right behind him. Elias looked around, trying to find something to get his message across. A pen, he'd write on the wall if he had to. Silverware, anything. He found a knife and began to carve into the counter in front of the men. C H A The prickling stopped. The knife fell inert. Elias pounded the counter top in frustration. He was almost there! It wasn't fair. But his arms went through the counter and Elias knew he had to get back to Logan.

* * *

Elias winked away and Logan told himself to be strong. He didn't feel strong. Rorke pushed his chair back again, further from the dangling guard. Logan tried to be glad they hadn't cut that man down. They couldn't hang him up like that if the man was still there.

"Give me that knife," Rorke ordered. Then the knelt in front of Logan. "I've had a little practice at this," he told Logan, showing him the bloody knife. The bands on Logan's ankles kept his legs spread on the chair. Rorke lifted the hospital gown to expose the long row of stitches on the inside of Logan's right thigh. The cut was red and raised and it ached a lot.

The knife pressed into the top of the cut and slipped down slowly, cutting the stitches with ease. Blood began to seep out of the wound. "It is possible to skin a man slowly. Keeping him alive for a couple of weeks. Some of the cannibal tribes in the Amazon have perfected it." He pressed his left thumb into the cut near Logan's knee. Logan clenched his teeth against the pain.

Rorke chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm just going to give you a little taste." He used the knife then to fillet off a strip of Logan's skin where his thumb was. Logan screamed and then Rorke surprised him. He stood up and kicked Logan in the chest. The heavy chair fell back and the beams in the back bit into Logan's shoulders. The impact drove the breath from his lungs and he gulped for another. That's when Rorke's hand rushed to his face. Logan felt the skin on his tongue, tasted the irony flavor of blood. Logan was horrified. He struggled against the binds on the chair, ignoring the pain in his arm and leg. Rorke's hand moved just in time, and Logan vomited violently. He turned his head to keep from drowning.

Rorke just laughed. The chair lurched upward as Logan heaved again, this time between his legs. Some of it got on Rorke's boot and he punched Logan in the face for it.

"Just a taste, as I said," Rorke went on. "I'm saving the full course for your brother."

 _Dad!_ Logan screamed.

Rorke lifted Logan's head by his hair and pushed a picture in front of his eyes. There were 3 ghosts on their knees. Their hands were laced behind their heads. There was a dead dog in front of one. Rorke showed him another photo, held it close to his face. It was a close up of one Ghost. He recognized his father's mask. It was Hesh. The dog was Riley.

Logan stopped breathing. The picture went away. "Take him back and get the doctor to stitch that up again." There was a scuffle of boots as men responded. "No meds!" Rorke roared after them.

Arms unhooked the straps and lifted him. Logan was numb as they dragged him back to his cell and left him in the darkness.

* * *

Elias knew it had been bad when he saw Logan's face, his vacant stare, the stains on his hospital gown, the blood oozing from his thigh. He should have stayed.

 _I need to be like you,_ Logan thought to him, tears rolled down his cheeks. _Kill me, please._

"No!" Elias lifted his shoulders and slipped behind him. He let Logan lean against him as he rubbed the hair from Logan's eyes. But Logan suddenly lurched forward and crawled to the toilet and retched into the water. He almost fell forward into it as his strength gave way. Elias held his chest, kept him up and his son heaved again and again. Afterward, exhausted, Logan had sobbed against him. What had they done?

He spoke softly to his son as he cried. "Just a little while longer, Logan. We'll make it through this."

Finally, after a long time, he heard Logan's voice. _It doesn't matter. They have Hesh._

Elias turned his son around so he could face him. He cupped his face in his hands and shook his own head. "It's not true, Logan. I was there. Hesh was there. In their base. It's in a church, Logan. Merrick was there. They're fine."

And Elias saw the life return softly to Logan's eyes. _You're sure?_

Elias held him close. "I promise. I almost got to tell them, Logan. I almost did."

Elias waited until Logan had been asleep on the second night. The doctor had come and gone. He'd muttered, " _Dio mio,_ " over and over as he sewed. He'd looked behind him and then pulled out a syringe and kept it low, out of the view of the guard. Elias didn't know what it was he'd injected his son with, but he didn't worry. He felt he understood this doctor, who wouldn't hurt Logan but wouldn't help him more-well, much more-than he was allowed. The doctor could be trusted to a certain extent. "Tell Señor Rorke," he'd said as he left, "the boy needs two days. If Rorke doesn't want an amputation, he'll do as I say."

When Elias was sure Logan wouldn't wake, he kissed him lightly then stood again. He had a theory and he needed to test it. He closed his eyes and thought of Hesh.

The loud noise of a beating propeller greeted him and he opened his eyes. He was in a helicopter. Hesh, Merrick, Keegan, Kick and three others were in full gear. Elias tried to touch his son. His hand went through. He touched Merrick's rifle. His finger went through. He could drain a battery and get farther, he knew. But he wouldn't do that, not in this situation. They needed their equipment. All of it. He would not jeopordize their mission. It didn't matter anyway. He got what he needed. And he decided the universe was a cruel, unfair place. His being a ghost at all showed that. A ghost who could only touch the son who needed help and not the son who could help him. A ghost who could only have power away from the hurting son while he was being hurt. He could not tell Logan that. He closed his eyes and returned to Logan. He laid beside him and hoped he had some semblance of warmth to offer his poor son.

* * *

Hesh waited at the door. He could see Merrick and Estelle walking together. They'd started doing that every day Merrick was on base. She really did walk fast, Hesh noted. He'd watched her. But with Merrick, she kept a more normal strolling pace. She and he just walked longer. They were still a ways out, so Hesh retreated to the sanctuary. There was music playing. Estelle was not so much into what Hesh thought of as "church" music. Her music sounded like a lot of other music. It just had better things to say. Well, when it wasn't Weird Al Yankovic. Fortunately, there was no Weird Al today. Hesh didn't feel like comedy. He was thinking about Logan as usual and about the mishap in the kitchen. The times Riley had gone nuts. Hesh remembered watching ghost hunter shows now and then with Logan but he wasn't sure they weren't fake.

"You seem puzzled, David," Estelle said, as she sat down beside him. Hesh hadn't realized he'd been there that long. Still, he wasn't sure if ghosts were really something to speak to a chaplain about.

"You know," she said, getting comfortable on the pew, "I don't think I actually know very much about Logan. I do think I'll meet him someday. Can you tell me about him?"

Hesh couldn't get past seeing his brother dragged off into the jungle. So he started there. He told her how Logan had swam to the surface, pulling Hesh along. Saving him. He told her that his brother was courageous. "He was always braver than me," he said. "When Rorke had us tied up, he got free. He'd been shot and he got free. He attacked Rorke, got his gun. Rorke was stronger."

"Well, he _had_ been shot," Estelle pointed out.

Hesh just nodded. He didn't want to talk about his father's death. "He never complained. Even when he was hurt. He just dusted himself off and kept going. He used to follow me around like a puppy dog when we were little. He wanted to do everything I did. He ran away from home when he was three. Turns out he was just trying to follow me to school. Dad found him a block down the street. We didn't argue like a lot of brothers. He was like my shadow, always there. And it just feels so wrong now that he's not. Like I'm not me anymore."

He could see the tears welling in Estelle's eyes. She did compassion so easily it took him offguard sometimes. "Let's pray for him," she suggested.

Hesh nodded and she took his hands and bowed her head. Hesh closed his eyes. "Lord, David's brother is in a very hard place. Right now, he's beyond our help. But he is not beyond Your help, Lord Jesus. You have been in such a hard place and you know his heart aches. Lord, please send us a sign, show us the way to bring him home. For You, Lord, nothing is impossible. Comfort him in his time of trouble, and safeguard his soul while he waits. In Jesus' name. Amen."

Hesh felt a little better and a little sadder, at the same time. Finally, he decided to just blurt the other thing out. "Estelle, what does the Bible say about ghosts?"

Estelle sat back. "Well, nothing. Not like we think of them, anyway. I mean, there are powers, supernatural things. Some of them good, like angels and heavenly beings and some of them bad, like demons. If you're thinking about that thing in the kitchen, I'm not sure it's a good thing. I'm been trying to guess what 'CHI' is supposed to mean. But the mess!"

Hesh nodded. "But it's not just that. Something messed with the monitors in comms. Riley, he started acting really weird. Almost like he was doing tricks for someone. And," he really puzzled about this one, "he seems happy to see it."

Estelle considered that. "Well, animals are often good judges of character. Maybe it was a different thing than the thing in the kitchen. Really, the Bible does not talk about dead people walking around on Earth, well, except one, of course. But I rely on two things in instances like this."

Hesh waited. "What two things?"

"The Bible says that man's highest wisdom is God's foolishness. Our wisest man would only be as wise a joke God wanted to tell. So we can't possibly know all the answers until we meet him. I know I'm looking forward to asking how evolution and dinosaurs really fit into His time-line. I'm sure there's a fantastic explanation. I just don't know it yet.

"The second is that God really does work in mysterious ways. He once gave a donkey a voice to chide his owner for beating him. His owner thought he was being stubborn but he was really saving his life. Five fishes and a few loaves somehow fed five thousand men and their families with baskets of leftovers. He's in the business of miracles. And if He wants a dead person to walk around until they come around right, He can do that. Or if He wants someone who has passed to do something for Him, He can do that, too. Of course, maybe those people are just people who were cut off from him."

Hesh decided to confide in her. "I think I felt it in the helicopter. I was afraid something bad would happen, but it didn't. I didn't see or hear anything. I just felt something different, like someone was there."

"Maybe it was Jesus himself," she said. "Or the Holy Spirit. Or maybe it is the thing that Riley saw. Something you don't have to be afraid of, anyway." Hesh decided he was okay with either of those options. As long as it wasn't the thing from the kitchen.

* * *

Elias felt horrible when the lights came on and Sanchez ordered Logan out. But at least it was Sanchez. Oh, he'd do his duty. He'd learned that lesson. But he didn't put his heart in it anymore. Elias made sure of that. He followed as they dragged Logan up the stairs into the night. He drained the batteries from their flashlights and as they cursed and slapped the useless devices against their palms, Elias pushed one of them down the stairs.

The other guard crossed himself. Sanchez leaned over the trapdoor. "Diego?"

There was a groan from down below. Elias could see a large tub of water. So they were going to drown Logan. While they waited for Diego to crawl back up the stairs, Elias turned to his son. "Sanchez is going to drown you. Not all the way. Be strong and don't believe anything he tells you."

Logan swallowed and Elias couldn't keep it from him anymore. "Logan, I can do more there when he does."

 _Where Hesh is?_

"Yes. I hate leaving you, but I can touch things, move them. But only when you need me most."

 _It's not Rorke,_ Logan told him. _Go tell Hesh._

"You were always the bravest one, Logan. You still are. I love you."

Elias left him then, knowing that they were sugar-coating it even then. Yes, Sanchez wasn't Rorke. He wasn't a sadist. But this wasn't going to be easy for Logan either. Elias was in a terrible mood when he opened his eyes and found Hesh sleeping again. Riley was there but Elias decided to let the dog sleep. The prickling started and he knew it was time to work. He rifled through Hesh's belongings until he found a sharp hunting knife.

Then he kicked the side of the bed hard. That got Riley going. But more importantly, Hesh was awake. "Riley! Not again!"

Dad knelt low and held the knife in front of Hesh's groggy eyes. They widened in recognition and he sat up, scooting back from the knife. Elias pulled it back. He hadn't wanted to really scare Hesh. He just wanted him to know he was there. Now he did. Hesh knocked twice on the wall behind him.

Elias looked around. There was a second bed, perfectly made and he knew that Hesh had it there for Logan. Good, he wasn't giving up. Well, now he needed some help. Keegan entered as Elias put the blade to the back wall. He carved three letters: DAD.

Hesh stood up behind him. "Dad?"

Riley barked and Elias smiled. Okay, now he knew who. Elias had to tell them where. He kept carving: M, the knife fell. The prickling had stopped. "Damn it," he said. Then he felt bad. He wanted more time but he didn't want Logan to suffer for it. Well, it was a start. Maybe they'd put that and the letters from the kitchen together.

"Colombia?" Keegan asked. "Is Logan in Colombia, Elias?"

Elias wished he could pick up the knife to tell him he was right, to tell him more. But Logan needed him and he couldn't do any more. "Riley, roll over." Riley obliged and Elias closed his eyes.

Logan was gasping for breath beside the tub. "Cough it out, Logan." Elias patted him on the back.

They dragged Logan back down the stairs. He could barely keep his feet underneath him. Elias went through the door before they opened it. He was horrified to see that there were small shards of glass all over it. He tried to push them out of the way but it didn't work like that. He could only touch Logan without some power. He'd already used all that pushing Diego down the stairs. The door opened and the two guards held Logan up while Sanchez pushed him hard into the cell. Logan cut his feet and fell. Elias moved quick to ease him down. The door slammed shut and the lights went out. Logan couldn't even see the glass now.

"Take off the gown, Logan." Elias told him. "Use it to push the glass away." He helped him as much as he could when he couldn't really touch the gown. Logan lifted it over his head without untying it. Elias hated seeing his son so thin. He could see all of Logan's ribs and his shoulder bones were prominent. Logan's hand shook as he pushed the glass into a pile. When Elias could see he had a clear spot, he helped Logan find the arm holes to put the gown on again. It was still damp on his skin but it was all he had.

 _Could you tell them?_ Logan asked him as he laid down. Elias was his pillow again as usual. He wanted to do more.

"They know it's me now," Elias told him. "Hesh knows. I got to tell them 'Colombia.' It's a start. He's got a bed for you, Logan. In his room. Your brother has not given up on you."

Elias decided then and there that he'd stay with him. No more night visits to Hesh. He probably needed one more good chance to tell them where Logan was in Colombia. He hated what that meant for Logan. But it was the boy's only real hope. He wasn't going to leave him until then. He hoped it was before Rorke returned.

* * *

Hesh didn't sleep the next two nights. He drank coffee and did push-ups. Anything to stay awake. He wanted to be awake when his father came again. He had been in shock when Keegan asked if Logan was in Colombia and Riley had rolled over. Dad had to have told him to do it. Logan was in Colombia. Keegan went right to get Merrick. Hesh heard him telling Merrick that he knew who the ghost was.

"What ghost?" Merrick had asked. Hesh was just standing up again when Merrick came through his door, followed by Keegan.

"The one that wrote that on the wall." Keegan pointed to the words.

"Elias?"

"Yeah," Hesh replied. "And Logan's in Colombia."

"Where in Colombia?"

Keegan answered that. "He didn't get that far. The knife just fell, like the pans did in the kitchen. It's been Elias. He's been trying to get our attention."

Merrick nodded. "We'll he's got it. Hesh, get to comms. Get JSOC to give us everything they've got on Colombia. Maybe we can deduce which compound they have him in."

Hesh hadn't even bothered to dress. But that had been two nights ago. He fortunately didn't have any active missions at the time. Merrick would have benched him if he knew. Hesh hid away in the bell tower every now and then to nap. He wanted to be awake when his dad came again. Colombia wasn't quite enough to go on. Besides, he just wanted to know if Logan was okay, if Dad had always been around and what it meant that he was still around.

He woke up to commotion in the hall. He must have dozed off. "Wake up," Keegan said as he knocked on the door. "We're going to Colombia."

Hesh shook himself awake and rushed to the door. "We have a target?"

"Airport," Keegan replied. "Rumor has it Rorke's gonna be there."

Hesh checked his watch. It was 0530. He suddenly regretted those wakeful nights. He dressed in a hurry and hoped he could catch a few z's on the way down.

* * *

Rorke was back. Elias agonized over the decision when to go. Logan needed him here but Logan also needed Hesh to rescue him. He just couldn't leave. Rorke dragged Logan by the hair. He took him to the room with the chair. But he didn't take him to the chair. He took him to the section with the high ceiling. They tied a rope around his feet and then lifted him fast. Elias did his best to protect Logan's head as they jerked his legs. They raised him high enough that his hands almost reached the floor. Well, his left. His right arm hung at an angle, broken as it was. The gown fell down and they ripped it off. They tied his hands together and secured him to the metal loop. Elias didn't see the men in aprons, thankfully. No more of that. But he wasn't happy to see the truncheons some of the guards carried. He looked up and saw two more on the floor above. So they were going to beat him. That alone could kill him. But Elias knew Rorke wanted him alive even still.

He had to bank on that. He hated to go. Logan was shaking. He was so scared. But he didn't call out to his father, and Elias knew he was trying hard to brave. "I'll make them know this time, Logan. I'll lead them right to you." He felt inexplicable tears running down his face. Why did it still hurt so much when he was dead? "I love you, son. Stay strong."

He closed his eyes and found himself in the woods when he opened them. He was looking out over a ridge at an airfield. One that looked vaguely familiar. His head already prickling, Elias looked for a stick to write in the dirt, anything, but then they were gone. He saw them now heading down toward the runways. He'd lost his chance. He wouldn't, couldn't endanger his other son. He couldn't interfere with their mission.

It was so unfair! There was gunfire. How long would Logan last? He had to tell them now! It was too late! Elias fell to his knees in defeat.

Then his hurt turned to anger. It was wrong! He was not going to let Logan suffer again just because the universe seemed to be conspiring against him. He wouldn't let it. He raced down the hill and moved up past the Ghosts. He found a fallen Fed soldier and stole his knife. Then he approached a live one, positioned behind some cargo containers. The man didn't see him. He didn't see the knife. Elias sliced his throat from ear to ear then killed two more while they were distracted by first guy dying. He killed everyone that stood in his path. He went right up the tower.

* * *

Merrick put his right hand up, in a fist. Hesh stopped in his tracks. His adrenaline was pumping now. He didn't need sleep any more. He was pumped. For all he knew, Logan could be at this airfield. He could be close. Merrick motioned that he and Keegan should take right. Keegan peeled off and Hesh followed. It was eerily quiet. There were a few isolated shots here and there. Easy pickings really. They rounded a cargo container and stopped. There were at least half a dozen dead Feds bleeding. One was still breathing, his breath coming in gurgles through his mangled throat. "These are knife wounds," Keegan said. "Merrick. They might be killing their own men."

"I see it. Not sure what to make of it. Proceed with caution." They cleared the runways then headed for the airport itself. There was more resistance inside and it slowed them down. It had been creepy to see those guys outside, Hesh thought. This was more normal. They cleared it gate by gate and met Merrick and Kick for the assault on the tower.

"More dead guys," Kick commented. There was blood running down the steps. No more resistance. Someone or some thing had gotten to them first.

When they pushed open the door to the tower, they saw three men down. Above one, written in blood in large letters on the glass was a word: LOGAN.

"No!" Hesh dropped to his knees. He didn't realize he'd cried out. He couldn't think. Did that mean this was Logan, like Dad, a ghost? Or was it a sick joke from Rorke, another set up? Or was it-

"Hesh, look," Merrick said.

Another letter appeared on the glass: C. Then another: H. And on and on: I. Chichagui. More blood, another word: HOSTEL. It wasn't done. Dad wasn't done: KUNDUR CELLAR.

Keegan beside him pulled up a map on the computer. "It's less than four miles from here."

Merrick pulled Hesh up. "We got your message, Elias. Tell Logan we're coming for him."


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note:

This will be a short one. I think after I wrote what's next, it needed to end there with what comes after in the next chapter. I hope you like it.

One more: If you're curious, Chachagui is a real place, as is the airport. Google Maps was a fun research tool for me this time. Look it up if you like. Hostel Kundur looks like a real nice place.

More Than a Ghost  
by Philippe de la Matraque

Chapter Five

Everything hurt. Logan was dizzy and wanted to just black out. But he wanted to give his father time. Time to tell Hesh where he was. This was when he had power. Logan tried to stay strong.

The blows were irregular. Sometimes it was the two guys on the lower floor. Then his stomach, ribs, thighs, arms or even his head would be hit. Other times it was the two upstairs guards would hit his legs, or the soles of his feet. Logan was taken aback at just how painful those hits were. He thought for sure at least one of his ribs had been broken.

He'd stopped listening to Rorke some time ago. _Just taunting_ , he'd told himself. _Don't listen._

Pain exploded in his feet and his sight blacked out for a moment. But then the shock of a cold water hitting his face brought him back again.

"Can't check out yet, Logan," Rorke said, and then he kicked Logan in the back of the head. "You know your brother was a lot louder than you. He squealed right away. Spilled his guts, literally."

 _Don't listen,_ Logan told himself. _It's not true. Dad said so._

More blows, his back and legs. Every blow, no matter where it was, pulled on his arms, which meant it pulled on the broken one. And Rorke just didn't seem ready to stop. In between the blows, Logan just tried to breathe. But it was hard upside down. His head was pounding.

Finally, Dad was back. He looked concerned. "I'm so sorry I was away for so long," he said.

 _Did you find him?_ Logan asked before another flurry of blows landed. _Did you tell them?_

Dad knelt down and cupped Logan's face in his hands. "I told them, Logan. They're coming. They're not far. They were at the airport. The one where we landed. Logan, Hesh is coming. He knows where you are."

Logan sobbed in relief. Rorke laughed. The blows didn't stop.

* * *

"We should go now," Hesh argued. He couldn't stand still. Logan needed him. They had left the airport and traveled south by foot. They had bypassed the highway that led straight into town and headed straight for the hotel which was just in the suburbs. But there had been a mountain in the way and they'd had to reroute around it, slipping past another little town and back parallel to the highway. They swung west as they approached the hotel. They were now hidden in the tree-line overlooking the back of the Hostel Kundur. Where Logan was.

"We have to wait until dark," Merrick replied.

Keegan slipped out of the trees and joined them. "He's right." He had gone ahead to recon the town of Chichagui. "Town's full of feds. We go in hot, they'll be on us in minutes. Took me ten minutes. And I didn't have a jeep."

"I count thirty-five in and around the hotel," Merrick said. "Whatever they're doing to Logan, they are not killing him. But if Rorke gets even a sniff of us, he will." He lowered his voice. "We need to do this right. We need more men and we need a plan."

They'd hit the airport at dawn. It wasn't even noon yet, Hesh realized. He knew Merrick was right.

Merrick put his hand on Hesh's shoulder. "Logan is going to be free and in a hospital by tomorrow morning. We will get him back."

Hesh didn't like it but he nodded. Then he thought of something. If Dad was with Logan, maybe Dad could help. "We need Riley," he said. "Make sure they bring Riley."

* * *

It had been hours. When they had dropped Logan back in his cell, Elias decided to leave him again. He helped Logan settle into a position that offered him the least pain. There wasn't any position that didn't hurt and the damn glass had been respread. Logan couldn't move to brush it away this time. Elias was furious and he wanted to do as much damage to Rorke and his forces as he could. He went room to room, draining every battery he could find. Every radio, every flashlight, the batteries in the jeeps outside. He used that energy to snap the hardwired communication lines. He pulled the cables out, tied them to a rock and threw them into the swimming pool out back. He didn't do anything overt. He didn't attack any of the guards. He didn't want to clue them in to the impending attack. But there would be no calling for reinforcements when the Ghosts came. It was daylight. He didn't figure they'd come before night.

He sat with Logan after that. He told him again how much he loved him, that he was proud of him, and that his ordeal was going to be over in a just a few more hours.

 _They'll come at night?_ Logan asked. He sounded so tired. Blood leaked from the corner of his mouth and some of the redness was starting to turn into dark bruises. He was starting to swell.

"Yes," Elias said. "I think so."

 _How long?_

Elias lifted Logan's head gently and set it on his knee. "Just a few more hours. Try to sleep. It's almost over." Elias tried to imagine his son healthy again, confident and strong. He was handsome, just an inch or two shorter than Hesh, with lighter hair, like his mother. Lots of people had underestimated his second son because of his silence. But he had always, always exceeded expectations. He would again. He would survive this and someday, someday, he would thrive again.

* * *

Kick brought in the rest of the team-and Riley, right at sunset. "We've got two choppers back at the airport," he reported. "Got a Coast Guard rescue swimmer to ride along. He'll look after Logan."

Merrick nodded and laid out the plan. Hesh fitted the camera onto his helmet. He and Riley were going in alone. They'd go quiet and get to the cellar. Then Hesh would enter, take out any guards and find his brother. Once Logan was safe, the rest of the Ghosts would begin their assault. For now, they waited for darkness and ate some MRE's. Riley had his own then laid down at Hesh's feet.

The sun dipped down past the mountains in the west. Riley perked his head up, then stood attentively watching the western side of the hotel. Hesh took the binoculars from Keegan. He could see a difference in the lawn there. It looked like wood. A door. The cellar. He handed the binoculars back, then lifted the monitor and synced with Riley. Keeping the dog low to the ground, he had Riley come up behind a lone guard that was circling the edge of the lawn. Riley took the man down. Hesh followed, staying low and pushed the body into the pool. Riley took down two more before they made it to the trapdoor. Hesh put away the monitor. He told Riley to stay and opened the door. It was dark below so he put on his night-vision goggles and started down the stairs.

He could see a light on the first floor. He put the goggles up then slipped down the hall. His rifle was silenced. He tagged two men at a table playing cards. On a monitor, he could see a body propped against a wall through a night-vision camera. He couldn't see a lot of detail but he knew it was his brother. He flipped a switch and the view moved to a chair with ankle, arm, and torso restraints. Another flip and there was a metal table with similar straps. Hesh felt sick.

"Let it go," sounded in his ear. "Logan needs you," Merrick said.

Hesh nodded once then moved on. He found no one else on the first level. He did find a railing that overlooked the second level. There was a hook and rope on the ceiling. Hesh moved back to the stairs and went down. It was very dark, so he put the goggles back on. He found a room with a shower. He found the room with the chair, the one with the table. Then he found a locked door. Logan's door.

Hesh lifted his goggles and pulled out his torch. He quickly cut the lock and let it drop. He put the goggles back on and pulled open the door. Logan shrunk back into the corner, and Hesh felt terrible for scaring him. Logan looked to his right and then relaxed. _My God,_ Hesh thought. _Is he seeing Dad?_

* * *

Elias had propped Logan up in preparation for the raid. Once he was sure his boy would not fall, he slipped upstairs and watched the sun set from inside the wall of the hotel. The sun set and he stepped out next to the door. He looked out and thought maybe he saw a dog in the shadow of the trees. They'd brought Riley. That was it. The dog saw him. They'd come now.

He stayed there watching as Riley took out the guards with Hesh following low and quiet. The bodies went into the water of the pool. The darkness hid them further. Hesh opened the hatch and slipped inside. Riley stayed put. "Good dog, Riley," Elias told him. He followed Hesh down. He wished he could show him where Logan was. But the only batteries left were Hesh's and he wouldn't take those. Hesh finally reached the door and cut the lock. He saw that Logan was scared and rushed through Hesh to reassure him. "It's Hesh, Logan. It's your brother."

He didn't expect the light to blaze on. "Two ghosts for the price of one," Rorke said. Hesh had to rip his NVG's off. He spun around, but Rorke had the drop on him. "Drop it."

Hesh let his rifle fall. Rorke wasn't done. "I know you're tempted, Logan, but I don't think you could possibly reach it in time. Not in your condition."

Elias didn't understand how he'd gotten down behind Hesh. Unless. Riley.

"Logan, here, is a tough case. You guys didn't tell me he won't talk. Won't scream, won't make a peep. It's awfully hard to turn a guy like that. No way to tell he's really turned." Elias realized he meant to keep talking. He rushed past him and up the stairs. "But the boss," Rorke was saying, "he wants another ghost."

* * *

Logan eyed the rifle on the floor. But Rorke was right. He didn't think he could even lift it. He could hardly move. Rorke kept talking. "He wanted Logan. But I think I can convince him that you're a better fit. Now where are your friends?"

There was a growl and before Rorke could turn, he lurched forward. Logan managed to just lean away. Hesh had flattened himself against the wall. Rorke grunted, probably because the glass had got him. Then Logan saw the knife. Before he could talk himself out of it, he reached out with his left hand and pulled it from the sheath on Rorke's hip. Rorke was turning. Hesh dropped his knees onto Rorke's side and Logan heard a satisfying crack. Hesh wrestled with Rorke's arms as Rorke made it to his back. Then Logan saw his Dad coming from the side. _Help me!_ he pleaded.

"You haven't got the-" Rorke didn't get the chance to finish. When Dad's fingers wrapped around his, he'd plunged the knife into Rorke's chest.

 _Again!_ Dad helped him pull the knife back out and slam it again and again into Rorke. Now it was Rorke who was screaming. Then the screaming stopped. Rorke stopped moving. Logan dropped the knife. He was exhausted by the exertion.

Dad leaned into Rorke's face. "You're finished, you son of bitch!"

"Elias," Rorke gurgled, then his eyes glazed over and his breath stopped. Blood spread rapidly across the floor. Hesh kicked him just to be sure.

Hesh tapped his radio. "Rorke's dead. We're sure this time."

Logan heard Merrick's voice reply. "Confirmed. We're coming in. Stay put and keep Logan safe. Someone may have heard that screaming."

"Merrick, you have to get the data! It wasn't Rorke that wanted Logan. His boss did."

"We'll get it," Merrick replied. "All of it."

Hesh got up and told Riley to find Merrck. He reached out and pulled the door closed. Dad stayed at the door, keepin watch. Hesh stepped over Rorke's body. He sat down and pulled Logan gently to his chest. He pulled out his handgun and pointed it at the door.

Logan didn't have anything left. He leaned his head back on his brother's shoulder and just cried.

* * *

There was a noise at the door and Hesh cocked the gun. But Logan lightly nudged him as the door opened. Kick entered. His eyes widened when he saw Logan. "I'm your exfil. We gotta go."

"Can you walk?" Hesh asked his brother. He wasn't surprised when Logan shook his head.

Kick shoved Rorke's body over with his foot. Then moved to Logan's left and squatted down. He slipped his arm behind Logan's back. The other went to Logan's knee. "We'll get him out."

Hesh nodded and readjusted himself so he could lift with Kick. It was way too easy. Logan had lost way too much weight. Logan grimaced and Hesh hated that this was hurting him. Kick led the way, walking backwards but always looking over his shoulder. They went up the stairs and out into the night. When they got to the tree-line, Kick shifted Logan's meager weight completely onto Hesh. He lifted a pack from the weeds and pulled out a blanket. He wrapped it around Logan and tucked it in. Then he led Hesh deeper into trees. They walked for ten minutes then came across a truck and a dead Fed. Hesh climbed in the back with Logan and let Kick cover them both with a dirty tarp.

"Whatever happens," Kick said. "Stay down and stay quiet."

Hesh tried to shield Logan from the bumps as much as possible, but he could tell as Logan tensed that he was in a lot of pain. The ride smoothed out as they hit pavement. Less than ten minutes later the truck came to a stop. Kick pulled back the tarp. He was dressed in the dead Fed's uniform, but with his Ghosts' mask. They were met by another man who wore khakis but a Coast Guard helmet. He jumped into the back of the truck as the chopper started up.

"I'm Chris," he told Logan. "I just need to check you out." He took Logan's left wrist and got his pulse even as Logan was quaking from either chill or fear. He used a stethoscope to listen to Logan's breathing. "We should use the backboard," he said. But Logan locked his left arm on Hesh's that was holding his chest.

"I've got him," Hesh told him.

Chris nodded. "We'll slide him out slowly." He hooked and arm under Logan's knees and Hesh used one arm to slide forward as Chris pulled. They moved to the edge of the truck bed bit by bit. Then he and Chris cradle-carried Logan to the waiting chopper. Kick climbed in and helped to pull Hesh up and back into the wall so he could hold Logan. Chris jumped in then got to work. He put a syringe to Logan's leg and Logan relaxed against Hesh. Only then did Hesh realize his own cheeks were wet with tears. Chris looked over at Kick who mouthed 'brother.' Then he got to work. By the time they were airborne and running at speed, Chris had an IV in and a pulse monitor on Logan's left index finger.

He put a headset over Hesh's ears then said, "I don't like his breathing. I'm sure he's got broken ribs. May have knicked a lung. He's bruising, like, everywhere. His right arm is a complete mess. But don't you worry. Nobody likes to save lives as much as the Coast Guard."

"Dad always said that about you guys."

Chris just smiled and continued working. He put an oxygen mask over Logan's head. Finally, the lack of sleep, the worry, the loss of adrenaline hit him and Hesh found himself nodding off. Just before the blackness overtook him, he thought he saw his father kneeling at Logan's side. He seemed to nod to Hesh and then all went dark.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: It's harder to write the story on this side of things (the rescue being over). But I still very much want to write it. It will just take longer for each chapter. Also, as I've been writing this for a bit more than a week, I began to honor a few of our hometown baseball team players by using their last names for characters. Oh, and one character got the name of a particular Mets pitcher. On Sunday, November 1, our Kansas City Royals won the World Series so I'm just over-the-moon about it!

More Than a Ghost  
by Philippe de la Matraque

Chapter Six

Hesh woke when the helicopter touched down. There was a flurry of movement. Hesh came to full awareness as his brother was lifted from his arms. He scrambled out of the chopper to follow. Chris was talking with another Coastie. Logan was on a gurney. They were wheeling him toward a very large airplane. Hesh didn't even know where he was. Chris stepped back to meet him. "They're going to take him on to Kansas City. They've got the best hospital in the country tucked into the industrial caves there. Your brother is going to be fine."

Hesh thanked him. "I'm going with him."

"Already briefed them. The medic is Sarah. She's good."

Hesh was led inside by another Coastie, who tucked him into a seat near Logan but out of the way of their ability to care for him. Hesh rubbed his eyes. This was real. Logan was right there in front of him. It seemed more like a mirage or a fantasy. His brother was safe.

One of the women sat down beside him and handed him a bottle of water. He hadn't even realized how thirsty he was. "Chris told me you're his brother."

He nodded. "Hesh. You must be Sarah."

"Yep. She nodded toward the man in a white coat. "That's Dr. Perez. Your brother's got a fever. He's obviously malnourished. Can you tell us anything about what happened?"

Hesh shook his head. "His arm was broken nearly five months ago. When he was taken. He's been a prisoner since then. He was tortured. I just don't know how."

She put a hand on his knee. "Even that informs us. We'll need to treat him with special compassion. And you, you look like you could use some sleep. We'll be airborne for a few hours, I could get another gurney for you to sleep on."

Hesh looked toward Logan. He couldn't see his face. But he could see his legs. They were taking on a distinctly purple hue, even on the soles of his feet. Had they beat every inch of him?

"He's in very good hands," Sarah assured him. "We'll keep you close and of course, we'll wake you if anything happens."

Hesh let out a shaky sigh and nodded.

* * *

Logan's mind was swimming. It was dark. Like his cell. But he could hear voices. There was a lot of talking around him. He didn't know the voices, and he didn't understand what they were saying. It was like they were speaking underwater. He felt heavy and couldn't move. But he also didn't hurt. He vaguely thought he might be dying. Then he heard his father's voice. It still sounded underwater but the words were clear enough. "You're safe now, Logan. You're free and you're being helped. Hesh is with you. I love you boys more than anything. I'm so proud of you both. Sleep now, Logan. You're safe."

Logan believed his father. He was safe. He let the heaviness and the darkness wash over him, and he slipped back into full unconsciousness.

* * *

Hesh woke to someone shaking his shoulder. He bolted upright. "Logan?!"

Dr. Perez put a hand to his shoulder. "Your brother is stable. I just thought you might want an update."

Hesh blinked the sleep from his eyes and nodded.

Perez offered him another water bottle. "We'll be landing in about fifteen minutes. An ambulance will take you both to the hospital. We're concerned about the bruising. He was obviously beaten very badly. There could be internal bleeding. They'll X-ray Logan and possibly get an MRI and/or CAT scan. Then there will be surgery, if for nothing else than to deal with that arm. But his pulse is good. His breathing is a bit rough but he's doing it on his own. Do you know his blood type?"

Hesh nodded again. "O positive." His mouth was dry so he took a drink. "Can I see him?"

"He's sedated," the doctor replied. "He'll likely remain that way for a bit. We don't want to retraumatize him while we're treating him." Perez looked gave him a serious yet understanding look. "Logan went through a long and very difficult ordeal. His recovery has the potential to be longer and still hard. Just remember, trauma is not logical and it can't be controlled. But it can be treated. Your brother can heal. Just be patient with him."

The doctor led him back to Logan's side. The bruises, by now, had had time to form and swell. With his long hair and unkempt beard, Logan was nearly unrecognizable. About the only part of him that wasn't bruised was his hands. Hesh lifted Logan's left hand just an inch off the bed, enough to hold it. He noticed Logan's fingernails were very short, covering less than half of the nail beds. God, he hated Rorke.

Hesh had to back off for the landing. He had to be sitting down. He followed the gurney out to the ambulance and climbed inside after Logan was loaded and the EMT was on board. He knew it would happen but he didn't want Logan out of his sight. He'd been gone too long already.

Through the back window of the ambulance, Hesh saw something he'd never really seen since the war began. A thriving, undamaged, American metropolis. This city was one of the few major cities that ODIN hadn't had a chance to fire on before it burned up in the atmosphere. There were seamless highways, tree-lined suburbs, and a towering downtown. It was beautiful. The trees were just starting to turn yellow and orange with autumn approaching. They passed over a tall, diamond-shaped suspension bridge over the powerful Missouri River. They cut through downtown then turned east and the tall buildings grew smaller and smaller in the window. When they turned north again, Hesh spied two stadiums. The baseball diamond was lit up, the stands filled with blue-clad spectators. Hesh felt that this was why they fought. This was America as it had been for everyone. This is how America would be again.

The ambulance drove under the entrance of a cavern, and it got dark behind the ambulance. But it was bright when they parked. The doors opened and Logan was wheeled out. Hesh followed behind the EMT's and doctors into a mildly bustling hospital.

A young doctor pulled Hesh aside. Hesh followed Logan with his eyes and kept looking back over his shoulder. "Lieutenant Walker," the woman said, "I'm Dr. Gordon. We're going to take very good care of your brother. But you'll need to trust us to do that. We'll let you see him as soon as possible, and we'll keep you updated every step of the way."

Hesh reluctantly gave up and looked at her. She was a pretty brunette but very serious. She probably wasn't long out of med school. "It's just," he started, "he was lost for months."

Her eyes narrowed sympathetically. "Captain Merrick briefed us before you landed. He requested to have you call when you arrived." They stopped by a small comm center. "Mr. Escobar will put the call through for you."

She left him and a young Hispanic man handed him a headset and stepped outside the booth. Hesh put on the headset and sat in front of the monitor. He waited for Merrick to pick up. He was not surprised when Keegan muscled in beside the captain. "Good to see you, sir." Hesh said. And it was true. He hadn't heard if their exfil had gone off successfully. "Glad you both made it out."

"We did. And we got the data," Merrick confirmed. "Turns out there were no reinforcements. The jeeps were dead and comms was down. We checked a few radios on the Feds and they were as dead as the men."

"Looks like your dad prepped the way for us," Keegan added.

Hesh nodded. "He was there. I think he helped Logan kill Rorke. Logan didn't have the strength to stab him like he did." He paused. "I think Logan could see Dad."

"Good." Keegan said.

"Logan needed someone in his corner there," Merrick added. "How's he doing?"

Hesh sighed. "He's alive. They've got to x-ray him. Rorke had him beaten. He's purple! Everywhere! His fingernails must have been ripped out. He had a long cut on his arm, and his leg, it-" Hesh couldn't finish.

"Try not to make yourself crazy wondering what they did," Merrick said. "You'll probably get to hear it-or see it-from Logan himself. He'll need to do that, eventually, to heal."

Hesh nodded. "Can I stay?"

"We've got you off-duty for the next week and half, maybe two," Merrick replied. "The war hasn't ended yet. But we won't leave him alone out there. Don't worry about that."

Keegan spoke up. "Keep us posted."

"You do likewise," Hesh requested.

They were quiet a moment. "You did good, Hesh. You brought him home. You're dad would be proud. Or, rather, I'm sure he _is_ proud."

* * *

The call closed and Merrick stepped out of the comms center to where Estelle was waiting. "You sure you're good for that?"

Estelle nodded. "I have some experience in trauma therapy. All chaplains do." She'd had her own traumas in life as well, but she was sure they were minor compared to what Logan had suffered. Still, she'd learned something about how trauma works from feeling it in her own body and mind. "Besides," she said, "I'm the homebody here. I don't go on missions or coordinate resources. I can stay with him as long as he needs, and the war will be fine without me."

Merrick smiled. "I'm not sure we will. We've kind of gotten used to having you here."

Estelle smiled back. "You can request another chaplain for temporary assignment," she suggested.

Merrick shook his head. "Nope. This is your church, and it will stay your church."

"You know," she said. "The atmosphere around here has brightened considerably. Like a gloom has lifted. And it isn't because David's not here. Our lost sheep has been found. This is a good day."

"That it is," Merrick agreed.

* * *

Logan was still asleep. The doctors assured him that the sedation had worn off the day before. Logan was just exhausted. He would wake up.

Dr. Gordon had kept her word. She'd informed Hesh when Logan was taken in for surgery. She'd even given him a rundown of what was going to happen. They'd addressed Logan's broken ribs, and the tears in his lungs those had caused. They'd put carbon fiber rods in the bones of his right forearm since it was so badly broken, healed, and broken again all without having been set properly. They'd cleaned out the long incisions in his arm and thigh and put in a skin graft where the skin had actually been removed. They'd put in a feeding tube, but that had only been left in for twenty-four hours. They felt that would be too traumatic to wake up to. As it was, Logan had an IV still in his left arm, small cuts here and there from the glass in his cell, and bandages around his chest, arm, legs, and feet. He was still rather a splotchy purple color from all the bruising but the swelling had started to go down. Dr. Gordon had declared that a good sign.

So now it was just the waiting. Waiting for Logan to wake up, waiting for those bruises to go away, waiting until his brother could really live again.

Hesh stayed by Logan's bedside all through the night and into the next day. He only allowed Dr. Gordon to lead him away to eat. But sitting in the same chair so many hours was really starting to get uncomfortable.

He was just about ready to fall asleep when Logan began to stir. Hesh pulled his chair closer.

* * *

Logan was in the dark. He strained his eyes to see Dad but he wasn't there. His heart pounded in his chest. Then he realized his eyes were closed. He tried to open them but his eyelids felt heavy. When he could keep them open, he could see he was in a well-lit room, on his back. Oh, God, the table! There was something in his left arm. Then a hand touched his face and he heard a familiar voice.

Hesh. "It's okay, Logan. You're in a hospital. You're safe."

Maybe it was a trick. Dad said they might be nice to him. _Dad?_ He couldn't see his father. And his father didn't answer. Logan tried not to panic. He had to touch this Hesh to see if he was real. He lifted his heavily bandaged right arm.

Hesh took it. "I'm real. This isn't a trick. Do you remember? I got you out. Me and Kick. We carried you out."

Logan closed his eyes, trying to remember. Memories flooded into in his head too fast to process. Rorke in the doorway. A flash of Riley, a knife. His father's hand covering his own.

"Rorke is dead, Logan," Hesh said. "You killed him. You and Dad, right?"

Logan nodded and opened his eyes. Hesh knew about Dad. He felt like a fifty pound weight had just fallen off his chest. He took a deep-ish, shaky breath. He still didn't feel good, really. He hurt every time he moved and he was so hungry, so thirsty. But he thought maybe he felt free. He tried to sit up and failed.

Hesh let go of his hand. "I think there are controls here somewhere. Hold on." Hesh went behind him and Logan felt a bit of panic sneaking back in where that weight had been. "Got it."

The head of the bed began to rise and Logan with it. Now that he was sitting, he could see more of the room, and of himself. His knees were propped up a bit under the blanket that covered him. His feet felt like they had seven pairs of socks on them. He couldn't move his ankles or toes. One pound of that fifty crawled its way back onto him. His right arm was wrapped in thick bandages. It itched. Another two pounds. His left arm was covered in bruises and little cuts, and he remembered the beating, the glass on the floor. Three more.

"Nothing here isn't healable," Hesh told him. "Bruises go away. Little cuts heal up. Bones knit back together, fingernails grow. Stitches come out. You'll be healthy again soon, Logan. It will all be okay."

Logan nodded and willed that weight to leave him again. It bothered him that his father wasn't there. But he looked at his brother. He was there. Logan reached for his hand. He had missed him so much.

Hesh took his hand and then pressed his forehead gently against Logan's. "I missed you so much, Logan. I was always looking for you, praying for you. Always."

* * *

Logan didn't have much. David didn't have much more. They each had a trunk, which mostly held extra uniforms, ammo, weapons, and other gear. Not much of a personal nature. That made Estelle feel sad. That is what the war had reduced them to, she guessed. Logan's things were packed very neatly. She knew David would have done that for him. Captain Merrick had said that this was what they had brought from the aircraft carrier, which had managed to stay afloat although it was severely damaged and listing frightfully by the end of the battle.

Right on top of Logan's extra uniforms was a black Ghost mask. Their father's she knew. She put that into her bag. She grabbed two uniforms for each of them. David hadn't had a change of clothes with him and Logan didn't have any clothes at all. She took both pairs of "civies," one for each young man. These she had heard were all they had when they'd come to the aircraft carrier after being captured by Rorke and his men. She packed a pair of boots for Logan and socks for each of the boys. Young men, she corrected herself. It was just easier to think of two of them as boys when she thought of them as brothers. And it was so nice to think of them as a pair.

Before she left the room, she spotted a colored envelope on David's desk. There was a bulge in it and it had Logan's name on it. The birthday card. She put that in her bag, too. She wasn't leaving for a few days yet, but she wanted those days to prepare for her own stay. And to collect the right music on her old mp3 player. And, of course, she would listen to the other men who needed someone to listen to them. She'd felt a lot like a boy scout den mother these last few days. Finding Logan had lifted a pall from the base. The air was crisper, the sun brighter, the men just happier. They were circulating a Get Well card for Logan, she knew. It reminded her of heaven. How the angels celebrated when one of the lost was found.

* * *

Logan was starving to death. The doctors were very concerned. Hesh was, too. Every time they fed him, he vomited. No matter what they fed him, if it wasn't liquid, it came back up. Hesh told Dr. Gordon what he remembered from what his Dad has said about Rorke's turning. That he'd been fed food laced with the poisons of exotic plants to wreck his body. They had looked into that from a purely scientific perspective. It was highly likely this had been the case but there was no longer any physical impediment to his eating. He vomited for psychological reasons. So a psychologist was brought in.

Dr. Harvey was probably a decent psychologist but he was rather flummoxed with the idea that his patient could not speak to him. Even a deaf person would have been less perplexing. That Logan could hear and didn't seem inclined to sign or want a sign language interpreter was more than he could really manage. So he gave Logan a tablet to write on and asked Hesh to be a go-between. "What do you think of when you eat?" Harvey asked Logan.

Logan moved the tablet closer. "Hungry," he wrote. Hesh read it for Harvey who was at the far wall of the room.

"Tell us about the food they gave you in captivity."

The tablet didn't change. Logan got a faraway look in his eye though. Then he reached for the tub beside his bed. Hesh waited for him to finish then held a cup of water for him so he could rinse out his mouth.

"I already told you about the food," Hesh told Harvey as he took the tub to the restroom there and flushed its contents. He rinsed it in the sink then put it back on the bedside table.

"It would be better coming from him," Harvey argued. "Trauma heals with time. It heals faster when we can bring into the open the things that traumatize us."

Logan did something unexpected at that point. He pointed to his leg, the inside of his left thigh, near the knee. There were tears his his eyes. He covered his face with his left hand.

"I don't understand," Harvey said. "What's he trying to say?"

Hesh didn't even look at him. "Get out," he told Harvey. He'd fill him in later. He didn't know the specifics but he'd seen the hole in Logan's leg before he was bandaged. Rorke was one sick bastard.

When they were alone, Hesh sat on the edge of the bed, close to Logan. "He made you eat it?"

And Logan began to sign. It was the first time he'd done that with Hesh in years really. It was slow and halting but the signs were easy enough to read. In my mouth. Made me sick.

No wonder he had trouble eating. Poisoned food and being fed his own skin. Hesh even felt sick to his stomach after that. "We'll find something you can eat, Logan. I'm not going to let you starve. You survived all that for five months. You can get through this now."

Hesh remembered one of his girlfriends from high school. She'd brought nutrition shakes to lunch every day. Low calorie and lots of nutrition, she'd say. She brought different flavors, like strawberry or vanilla or chocolate. Logan used to love chocolate. There hadn't been a lot of it since the war, but maybe those shakes were still out there.

When Logan was somewhat more settled, Hesh went out to find Dr. Gordon. He found Harvey instead. "What did he mean?"

Hesh took a deep breath. "He meant that the bastard who had him cut a chunk of skin off his thigh and forced it down his throat. It made him sick."

"My God!" Harvey said, blanching. "That's horrid!"

"Yeah," Hesh agreed. "What's worse is a guy who's half-starved and only fed poisoned food and his own skin can't manage to eat anything now that he's been rescued."

"They'll have to use the feeding tube," Harvey concluded.

Hesh did not like this guy. "No!" he insisted. "They did that when he was unconscious. They're not going to do that when he's awake. I got another idea. Nutrition shakes. Chocolate. It's not food. It's a drink but it has vitamins and nutrients, and it's probably not like anything they give him down there."

"He can't live on nutrition shakes," Harvey held.

"It's a place to start," Hesh replied. "Get me one; we'll see how he manages it. And look, my brother is just five days outside of hell. How about a little empathy?"

* * *

Logan's stomach hurt. He was so hungry. He was angry at himself for getting sick with everything they brought him. He needed the food. He wanted it. He was free now; it wasn't tainted. It wasn't . . . it wasn't his leg. There was no reason why he should get sick. But he did. He swallowed the food they brought, hoping he'd keep it down. And every time, it came right back up. It wasn't fair.

Hesh reentered his room. He held something behind his back. "I've had an idea," he said. He brought his hand around and held out a bottle. The label read "Chocolate."

"Just think of this as dessert," Hesh said. "A chocolate shake. It's been a long time since you've had a chocolate shake."

Hesh handed him the bottle and he tried to open the lid. It was hard with the bandages around his wrist. Hesh opened it for him and helped him bring it to his lips. It was cold. Too cold maybe. But it tasted so good. It froze his throat, but he kept drinking and when it was gone he actually felt full.

Hesh took the bottle and capped it again. "You good."

Logan took a deep breath. His stomach felt good. He smiled.

"We have a winner!" Hesh cheered. "That shake had a lot of nutrients in it. Not just chocolate. It's a start. We're gonna take it slow and we'll just keep finding stuff you can keep down, okay?"

* * *

Estelle had everything packed. Kick had the chopper running. Captain Merrick was there to see her off. "Kick will get you to Los Angeles. You'll take a train from there to Kansas City."

Estelle nodded. "Union Station. I grew up in KC. Just need to know which cave and I'll find my way."

Merrick smiled. "Then you must be rooting for the Royals?"

Estelle smiled bigger. "Not yet, but if they make the playoffs I'll become a baseball fan again. Honestly, I prefer hockey. It's a lot faster game."

"That it is," Merrick agreed, then he changed the subject. "Logan was a good soldier. Damn fine shot. He never backed away from a mission. I'd like to see that Logan again, but I don't want to push him. If he doesn't want that, he doesn't owe us anything. He's still welcome here."

Estelle nodded. "He's safer here, too. On the edge of the safe zone. That guy still wants him. We won't let him have him."

"We will not," Merrick agreed. "He would be safer still if he _did_ come back a Ghost."

"I'll do my best for his best, Tom"

* * *

The room was dark. Hesh was asleep in the chair beside the bed. Logan was awake. He had woken up to the familiar feeling of hunger. He didn't want to wake his brother, though, even though he did not like being alone. He hadn't been alone for a long time. His father had been with him. Dad had only left him briefly to see what Rorke was doing or to learn about the town. Or to visit Hesh. But Hesh was here now. So where was Dad?

 _Dad?_ Logan called quietly. He looked all around the room but did not see the glowing figure of his father. _Dad!_ he called more urgently.

There was no answer. An emptiness crept into Logan's chest. The same emptiness he first felt in the pit before his father had come to him. That emptiness was worse than any hunger, any thirst. And it reminded him of lying on the floor watching Rorke put his boot then his gun to his father's head. _Dad!_

He hadn't realized he was crying. But it woke Hesh, who hurried to the bed. "Logan, what's wrong?"

Logan put his thumb to his chin in the sign for 'father.'

Hesh looked around in the dark. "Is he here?" Logan shook his head. Then he signed a question, 'Why?'

Hesh took a moment before he answered. "Maybe it's because I'm here now. Maybe he could only be with you when you needed him so desperately. When you didn't have anyone else." He sat on the edge of the bed and gave Logan a hug. "I bet it's like losing him all over again."

A bit of light filled Logan's sadness. His brother still understood him like before. But the grief overshadowed that and he didn't feel ashamed to cry it out. At some point, he was sure Hesh was crying, too.


	7. Chapter 7

More Than a Ghost  
by Philippe de la Matraque

Chapter Seven

He was being moved. Hesh had been talking about it. It was a good thing. It meant he was doing better so he didn't need the ICU any more. The IV wouldn't be needed as long as his eating kept improving. He wasn't nearly as dehydrated after the last few days here.

But Logan was nervous. Very nervous. His chest felt like it was constricting. It was getting harder to breathe. Logan kept feeling something on his neck, the rope. But when he put his hand there, there was nothing.

Dr. Harvey suggested his anxiety stemmed from his transitions during captivity. Of course, they did. He knew that. And he tried to tell himself that this was different. He was free. Hesh was there. He was feeling better every day. But the tight feeling in his chest remained. When they were alone, he wrote what he was feeling on the tablet and showed Hesh.

* * *

Hesh read the tablet and remembered what Dr. Perez had said on the plane. 'Trauma is not logical and it can't be controlled.' This must have been what he meant. Logan knew the move was a good thing, but the fear wouldn't stop anyway. Hesh wasn't sure how to counter something that wasn't logical or controllable. He couldn't just tell Logan not to be scared. The only thing he could think of was to reassure Logan that he wouldn't be alone and to stay cheerful about the move.

"I'll be with you, Logan," he told his brother, "every step of the way. They said there was even an extra bed in there. You know what that means?"

Logan glanced over to the chair Hesh was often sitting or sleeping in.

"Yep," Hesh said, smiling. "No more sleeping in that awful chair."

Logan put his left hand to his neck again and then put it back down quickly. They had done something to his neck, Hesh realized. He just didn't know what. And he didn't want to make Logan tell him right now. He wanted to help Logan to _not_ think about that.

A tall young man entered the room, pushing a wheelchair. "I'm Eric," he said. "I'm one of the nurses on your new ward. We're ready for you. But first, we'll remove that IV." He left the chair by the bed and moved around to Logan's left side where he pulled out the IV. Logan rubbed the spot on his arm where it had been.

Eric moved back to the chair and Logan eyed it suspiciously. Hesh remembered the chair he'd seen in the cellar. Still wanting to distract Logan from those thoughts, he quickly moved to help the nurse help Logan from the bed. The door, and thus the chair, was on Logan's right side. He couldn't brace himself with that broken arm. Logan winced when his right foot hit the ground, even bandaged as thickly as it was. He was still pretty well bruised all over from the beating he must have had just before Hesh had found him. Once he was settled in the chair, Logan quickly pulled his arms away from the armrests. He closed his eyes tight as the nurse placed his feet in the stirrups.

Hesh put his hand on Logan's shoulder. "I'll push," he offered. "You lead the way, Eric."

They passed through a set of double doors then turned into a corridor to the left. Eric led them about halfway down that corridor then opened a door on the right. "Your new home away from home," he said.

It was a very nice room. There was a hospital bed in the center with a non-adjustable bed further to the left and across from the beds was a large television. There was even a couch on the left wall. There was a large mural behind it depicting Kansas City in the spring. A window of sorts, inside a cave. A door to the right of the television led to a private bathroom.

"I think you're going to like it here, Logan. We haven't had digs like this in over a decade!" Hesh looked back at Logan. Eric had helped him into the bed. He looked, well, he looked relieved.

"You guys like baseball?" Eric asked. He lifted a remote control from the table between the beds and turned on the TV. "My dad was a first baseman during the 2015 season here in Kansas City. They won the World Series that year."

There was a game on, but it wasn't Kansas City. There weren't nearly as many teams since the war had started, but America's past time was still played. Only now it was co-ed. Men and women played together.

"I wanted to follow in his footsteps," the nurse continued. "But I wasn't as good as my dad and then the war started. I figured I wanted to do something to help people. Well, I'll leave you guys to get comfortable. There's water on the table there and you can call number six on the phone there to order your meals. I understand you're on a rather particular diet, Sergeant Walker."

"That he is," Hesh said. "But I think we just might try to expand it today."

Logan's eyebrows shot up at that. Hesh looked at the table. There was a tub beside the water pitcher. Just in case.

* * *

Expanding his food repertoire had not gone as well as either Logan nor his brother had hoped. He could still handle the shakes and other liquids or sweets. But his body rejected other solid foods. The new room was an improvement though. It made him feel a bit more human but still so unlike himself. He had trouble remembering what he had felt like before he was taken. That was the real him. Not the broken thing that had been dragged out of that pit by his neck. At present, he felt like he was still in limbo, somewhere between that creature of fear and suffering and the soldier he must have been. Like his brother. He tried to remind himself that he had been strong, like Hesh. Had done all the same things Hesh could do. But he didn't feel strong or capable. He couldn't even get to the bathroom by himself.

Logan decided that last thing could change. He remembered how getting underwear had made him feel he had a tiny bit of dignity. Well, this would be a bit more. To relieve himself in a dignified manner. That was maybe something in his control.

He looked over at the other bed. Hesh was asleep there. He couldn't help. Logan felt like he wanted Hesh awake but he wanted to do this by himself at the same time. He found the controls on the side of his bed and lifted himself into a seated position. Then he moved his legs over the side on his left and used his good arm to push himself the rest of the way up.

He lowered his feet to the floor. As he put his weight onto them, tendrils of pain spread across the soles of his feet and into his ankles and shins in spite of the thick bandaging. It stopped Logan's breath until he realized he was holding it. He closed his eyes and blew out the breath slowly. It hurt. But he had managed hurt for a while now. He'd had worse. Still holding the bed with his left arm, he took a step. Then another.

He was so focused on the movement that he hadn't realized he'd gasped. Not until his brother had called his name. Logan kept his eyes on the door to the bathroom. It was only a couple yards away.

Then Hesh was by his side. But he must have understood that Logan wanted to do this himself. He just helped Logan enough to keep him on his feet so that he didn't fall. Logan made it into the doorway, and Hesh flipped the light on for him. "I'll be right outside if you need anything," he said.

Logan accomplished his goal and then flushed. He braced his weight against the counter as he washed his hands. And that was when he looked into the mirror. It was the first time he'd seen himself since the carrier. Logan didn't recognize the person in the glass. He was at the same time gaunt and somewhat swollen, his skin still colored by the bruises in yellows and greens and purples. His eyes were sunken. His beard was scraggly and he was in dire need of a haircut.

The door opened and Hesh joined him there. "It's all temporary," he said. "A haircut and a shave will take care of a lot of it. The bruises will fade. You'll gain weight. You'll look like you again. I'll still look better."

That made Logan smile. Hesh laughed a little and squeezed Logan's shoulder. "Come on. It's still dark. Let's get you back to get some sleep."

Logan let him help him more. He'd managed what he'd wanted. He could handle that part himself from now on. He'd regained a bit more dignity. He was one step closer to human now.

* * *

Hesh, at times, felt terribly spoiled. He'd gotten more sleep in the last five days than he had in the last ten years. He got to eat three square meals a day and had no responsibilities to worry about. Except Logan. And that, well, that wasn't a responsibility. That was a privilege. It was so much better than having his brother listed as MIA, or finding his brother had turned and was hunting Ghosts with Rorke. And it was way better than having to bury his brother like they'd buried their father. Remembering that brought back how short of time they'd had to grieve together. Three days really. Three days on an aircraft carrier waiting for a battle. They'd won the battle, but then he'd lost Logan. He'd lost them both in just four days.

"Any progress on finding Rorke's boss?" Hesh asked Merrick.

"Not yet," Merrick replied. "It could be the leader of the Federation or any of his top aides. The messages were encrypted. We're still trying to decrypt and trace them.

"Hesh, the reports on their 'procedures' aren't encrypted. We know what they did to him. I'm going to copy this to you, but you know you or someone else should probably get Logan to communicate it to you. He's got to get it out."

Hesh nodded. He was both anxious for and dreading those reports. Maybe having them would help Logan to tell his story.

"It's not a nice read, Hesh," Merrick went on. "Your brother is a very strong man. He held out. With or without your dad's help. He's strong. He'll get through this." Hesh rubbed a hand over his head. "He doesn't feel strong right now. He says he's got a weight on his chest, a constant dread that something bad is going to happen. He still can't eat much of anything without getting sick."

"Speaking of that," Merrick jumped in. "Kick wanted to send you some recipes. They sneak vegetables into cookies and such."

"And peanut butter is protein," Kick chimed in from off-screen.

"Oh, we've got peanut butter," Hesh told him. "He loves Reese's."

Merrick got serious again. "You're going to help him remember he's strong, Hesh."

Hesh nodded. "I will."

Merrick closed the communication and Hesh thanked Escobar. He asked him to deliver the documents Merrick was sending to him in Logan's room.

* * *

Besides Merrick, Keegan was the only one to read those reports. He knew Rorke had been tortured until he had been turned, and he had proven very loyal to his new masters. He hadn't known he was such a sick, sadistic bastard. That Logan had been pulled from the pit by his neck was enough to learn that. That he drowned him after that was just piling on the evidence. And it went on and on. Logan had spent most of his time in captivity in the pit, starving or eating poisoned food. But the last month and a half had been one torment after another.

There were other reports though. These were about the ghost in the cellar. Some by Sanchez and even a couple by Rorke. Rorke had guessed it was Elias. He'd even commented how funny he thought it was that a Ghost had become a ghost. Elias had interrupted one torture session by killing the car battery they were shocking Logan with. But not before he stabbed one guy in the eye and shocked the other. Rorke had killed two of his own men to be sure that they feared him more than a phantom. But Rorke wasn't laughing any more. Keegan had seen the tape. Rorke had seen Elias just before he died.

He did wonder then if Rorke had become a ghost. And if he did, would he haunt his former torturers? Or would he use his newfound talents to menace his more recent enemies? Keegan rather hoped Elias would keep him at bay if the latter happened.

* * *

Hesh waited until Logan was asleep before he read the reports. He now knew why Logan had kept touching his neck before the move. He had a reason to be wary of transitions. Rorke had made each one a separate hell for Logan. He knew why Logan's feet hurt so much when he stood. Why he'd been bruised from head to toe. He knew Logan had had pneumonia and had one decent week with good food and warm air. And he knew that his father had done his part in tormenting the tormenters. Rorke even figured out it who it was. That he'd skinned two of his men to death still shocked Hesh. Rorke's underling, Sanchez, had even figured out that Logan couldn't talk but said Rorke wouldn't listen to reason on that. He read that Rorke had tried to trick Logan into thinking he'd killed Hesh and Riley and two other Ghosts. His father had likely countered those remarks. Hesh had noticed the date on the report. It was the same date as the kitchen fiasco.

Hesh tried to sleep but couldn't. His imagination kept taking pieces of the reports and showing him what it must have been like for Logan. Hesh couldn't think how Logan could have stayed sane without Dad. All those months in the pit in mud and muck, eating worms and drinking rain from his hands. How alone he must have felt. But then being drug by his neck, drowned and transported like an animal and submitted to torture sessions day after day. Hesh tried to imagine what his father did to help Logan besides tell him what was true. Then he thought about how he'd had to have helped Logan stab Rorke. He could touch Logan.

Then he felt a little better, but only a little. His father would have been a kind touch, a loving presence. Merrick was right, he'd needed someone in his corner there. And somehow, their father had been that someone. Hesh wished he could see him right then. Thank him, tell him how he'd missed him, how he loved him. He wished that he'd been able to see, touch, and hear their father the way Logan had. Even for just one moment. But he remembered the dead bodies at the airport. According to the date, that was when they were beating Logan with truncheons for hours. Dad had killed all those men and written in blood the information they needed to find Logan. It must have enraged him to be away from Logan then. It had to have been even harder for Logan to be alone. Hesh didn't begrudge his brother any time he spent with Dad.

Hesh picked up a pen and paper. He made notes to Logan's present wounds and how they had been caused so that the doctors could be clued in. Then he pulled up a chair by Logan's bed and watched him sleep. He didn't twist and turn in nightmares. He slept peacefully. Maybe he remembered Dad holding him while he slept.

That was a blessing. That was the real reason Rorke hadn't been able to turn him.

* * *

Estelle stepped off the train and climbed the stairs past granite walls. She took a door to her right and entered the grand waiting area, once again lined with benches. She passed under the enormous clock and into the main lobby of Union Station, Kansas City. Then she looked up. She loved that ceiling. The blue-framed rosettes and giant chandeliers. The station had celebrated one hundred years back in 2014. It would be one hundred and fifty in just a few more years.

She passed through the heavy glassed doors and into the parking lot. There was a jeep there with a driver holding a sign that read, "Chaplain Sawyer." She walked up to young woman in uniform. "You must be my ride."

"Private Rios, ma'am," the driver acknowledged. "I'm to take you to Kauffman Hospital." Rios held open the door to the jeep and Estelle threw her bag in before climbing into the back.

"It's good to be back," Estelle told the driver as they headed up Main Street toward Truman and the entrance to I-70 East. "I was born up in Northtown."

"I'm from KCK," Rios told her. "Other side of the river, not far from Strawberry Hill."

They rode the rest of the way in idle small talk about how Kansas City had changed since the start of the war. It was a major hub now for the military and the industrial caves around town had become vitally important to the nation's defense.

Rios dropped her off at the ambulance entrance inside one of the larger caves and another young woman met her there. "I'm Dr. Gordon," she said, introducing herself. "You're here for the Walkers?"

"Yes," Estelle told her. "I'll be staying when David's leave is up."

"His brother is doing quite well, physically," Dr. Gordon told her as she led her through the busy hospital. "His injuries were extensive but not life-threatening. Malnutrition and dehydration were a much bigger threat. We've got him well hydrated now, and Lieutenant Walker is working on the nutrition. Sergeant Walker is suffering from PTSD, and it's affecting his ability to eat most foods."

She knocked on a door in a quiet corridor and David opened it up. "Estelle!"

"Captain Merrick didn't tell you I was coming, did he?" Estelle asked. She thanked Dr. Gordon as David took her bag and led her inside.

"Logan, this is Reverend Estelle Sawyer," David said. "She's our chaplain back at our new base." Estelle followed his gaze and saw his brother for the first time. He was younger, that was obvious even through the bruises. His beard was unkempt and his dark blond hair too long for a soldier. But that was no surprise. He'd been a prisoner for months. They'd probably not prioritized good grooming. She tried to look past the hair and the bruises and thought she caught sight of a strong, handsome face. His eyes though, his eyes carried the haunted look of a soldier who'd seen too much, felt too much pain.

"It's good to finally put a face to the name," Estelle told him. "I'm so very glad to finally be able to meet you. I have prayed for you every day since I came to San Diego."

"I don't have to leave yet?" David asked. That brought a panicked look to Logan's face. His hands clenched the blanket over his lap.

Estelle sat down on the couch. "No," she reassured him. David sat on the other side of the bag. "Not for a few days. Captain Merrick felt it best that you and I were both here, seeing as Logan doesn't know me from Eve."

Estelle leaned back and crossed her right ankle over her left knee. "I just spent two days on a train. I could really use a cheeseburger. Dr. Gordon mentioned you were having some trouble with eating, Logan."

Logan looked to David. "We're working on it," David said. "We got nutrition shakes. Kick sent some recipes that Dr. Gordon baked, so we have some cookies and such. I was hoping to try some fresh fruit today."

Estelle concentrated on Logan. "Let me tell you a story. I have always been a very analytical person. I've had PSTD myself. Mainly from two things. The first one was big. It's a long story, but it's where I first noticed the irrationality of trauma. The second is a much shorter story, and it gave me really stark evidence to figure it all out.

"I was in college and my campus ministry went on a float trip down in southern Missouri. Ten miles down the Buffalo River. I got saddled with a novice canoe partner. We hit some rapids, went around a curve and ran right into a rock wall. The canoe turned over and dumped us out, and I went into total survival mode. I grabbed another passing canoe with a death-grip while the current kept banging me up against those rocks. The girls there feared I'd tip their canoe but I couldn't let go. I thought I was going to die. They finally managed to maneuver over to the shallow side of the river but I couldn't get up. The current was too strong and even though I was sitting on my rear by then, I was going under the canoe. Finally another young man stood in the current and held that canoe so I could get out from under it. My ordeal was over. I was saved."

Logan was watching her with rapt attention. She leaned forward and continued. "But you can't get off a river halfway down it. I had to get back in a canoe. Well, I did _not_ get in the one with that novice. I was put in another with a friend and his nephew. I was in middle, no seat and no paddles. Every time that canoe so much as jiggled, my hands got a death-grip on the sides of the canoe. Five miles down that river. Every jiggle, every bump. At times I could look over and the water was so clear that I could see it was only knee-deep. And many times it was smooth and calm, no rapids at all. But still, every jiggle." She held out her fists like she was holding on to the canoe. "And I realized something. There was a disconnect between my brain, which knew there was no real danger, and my body, which was screaming 'I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die!' And the thing is, my body wouldn't listen to my brain."

Logan nodded ever so slightly. "Your body is not letting you eat because it doesn't trust the food, right?" Estelle asked him. Another nod. "Well, then we just have to figure out how to trick your body into believing the food is fine."

"Did you ever get over it?" David asked. "The trauma?"

Estelle nodded. "Both of them. The canoe didn't take as long. The next year, I signed up for the canoe trip again. I didn't want that one time to ruin something I really enjoyed. I made sure I got a seasoned partner and when we set out that fear returned. We hit a log, and I had the death-grip. But we kept going and by lunch time, I was feeling more confident. By the end of the trip, I was comfortable in that canoe, even when it jiggled and bumped.

"Trauma doesn't have to define our lives. It's something we have to heal from but there is life afterward." She focused on Logan again. "Good life. So, are you ready to try that fruit?"

* * *

Eric the nurse entered. He had a tray with a plate and single large Gala apple on it. He set tray over Logan's legs and then left. Logan stared at that apple. He wanted it. He really did. But he was worried he'd just get sick again. Like Estelle said. His body wouldn't trust it.

"David," Estelle said. "I want you to wash that apple in that tub there on the table."

Hesh did as she requested and Logan watched. He wasn't watching Estelle at all. Hesh trusted her so he decided she was okay.

"Good," she stated. "It's really hard to put poison _in_ an apple. And now your brother has washed off any that was put _on_ it. Okay, David, take a bite."

"Me?" Hesh asked.

"Yep," she said. "It needs to be tested."

Hesh took a bite. Logan almost laughed. Hesh didn't like apples. He made a face, then struggled to swallow his bite.

"Well?" Estelle asked.

"I hate apples," Hesh admitted.

Estelle chuckled. "But otherwise you feel fine?"

"Yes, but next time, let's try a banana."

Estelle laughed. "Okay, give the apple to Logan. Logan, it's been washed and tested. Hopefully that's enough to convince your body."

Logan took the apple in his left hand and brought it to his lips. He took a big bite. It was sweet and juicy and crisp in just the right way. He took another bite and another and soon there was only the core left. And he felt good. Better than after a shake or small cookie. It did not protest. Logan leaned back with a satisfied sigh. Hesh and Estelle high-fived. Logan lifted his tablet and drew a banana.

"We are go for banana!" Estelle cheered. "We'll get a whole fruit basket!"

Logan picked up the pad as Estelle put in the order. He wrote on it then showed it to Hesh.

"Well," Hesh said, "because David, 'ah David, he was the one to stand up to that giant with nothing but a sling and a stone.'"

Logan looked at Estelle. She was smiling. Well, she was a chaplain, after all.

"Okay, why 'Hesh?'" she asked. Logan looked to Hesh for that.

"It's what Logan called me when he was little," his brother said. "Before he lost his voice. He was two. I guess he just didn't want to call me David."

Logan shrugged. He didn't remember any of that. He didn't remember having ever spoken. Though he'd wished it quite a lot.

"I'll stick with David," Estelle said.

Hesh leaned over to Logan. "You're lucky Logan isn't a biblical name."

Logan turned back to Estelle. He wrote "Why Estelle?" on the tablet and held it up for her.

"My parents were very fond of the _Lord of the Rings_ by JRR Tolkien. 'Estel' is a nickname for the King, Aragorn. It means 'hope' in Elvish. My mother really liked the Elves."

"Never read it," Hesh said. He looked to Logan who shook his head.

"Well, it's a good thing I brought a copy then," Estelle said as she pulled out a very thick book. "It's really a trilogy. Just the thing to while away a long hospital stay."

The fruit basket arrived and Logan forgot about the book. He was still very hungry.


	8. Chapter 8

**More Than A Ghost**  
by Philippe de la Matraque

 **Chapter Eight**

Estelle had a left one of her bags with them as she had gone to stay with family in the area. Hesh was relieved to find a couple uniforms and even some civies for him and Logan. There were even some weapons. Merrick must have packed those. Hesh still had all of his. These were probably for Logan. A P226 handgun, a knife, several packs of ammo. Logan would eventually leave the hospital, and, with that guy still wanting him, he'd need to be able to protect himself. Hesh wished he could stay until Logan was well enough to leave.

Logan woke fairly early in the morning, and, by then, Hesh had decided he would tell Logan about the reports. He thought maybe he could get him to communicate by going at things from a different direction.

"Good morning, Logan," Hesh told him as he rubbed his eyes. Logan nodded and Hesh helped him adjust his bed so he could sit up. Logan put his legs over the side, and Hesh knew he was going to go to the bathroom again. Hesh had realized the first time that, for Logan, this was a point of dignity. Something he'd had very little of during his captivity. Hesh just stood by, ready to help if Logan should need it. He grimaced with the pain in his feet-and Hesh now knew why they hurt so much-but he made it to the door on his own. Hesh was proud of him. It was a small victory in the grand scheme of things pershaps, but it was a step back toward being whole. Logan needed that.

Hesh waited until Logan had gotten back to the bed. "Would you like a shake for breakfast? Or fruit?"

Logan just looked at him. But Hesh got it. He smiled. "Okay, both. But no apples." Hesh put in the order. He would have the same thing. He didn't want Logan to be jealous.

Nurse Eric brought the food and checked Logan over. He took his temperature, checked his pulse and breathing, and changed out the bandages that were still necessary. Many of the small cuts from the glass on the floor were healed up and the bruises changing color as they did on their way out. Logan was not comfortable the whole time the nurse worked on him, but he didn't seem overly upset. Eric kept up a light banter as he did so, filling them both in on the news of the day. The lighter news of the day, rather. None of the heavy stuff of the war.

"No sign of infection," Eric pronounced. "Vitals are good. Your temperature is still slightly elevated but you seem to be on the mend. The doctor will be in to see you in an hour or so. Can I get you anything else?"

Logan shook his head and reached for the shake.

When breakfast was finished, Hesh cleaned up. Then he picked up the papers containing the reports. "Logan, we downloaded all the data from the base where you were held. We have all the reports of what they did to you. Given, it's from their perspective and probably glosses over some of the details. So you don't have explain everything if you don't want to. I know Harvey wants you to. What I want to know, though, is about Dad. When did you first see him? How did you hear him? What did he do?"

* * *

Logan looked down at his lap for a moment. He wasn't sure how he felt about the reports. Finally, he held out his left hand to his brother. Hesh handed him the papers. Logan scanned them. They were in chronological order. They were also rather clinical. They seemed so detached from how he felt then and even now. Reading them evoked very real memories and pain in Logan. There were a lot for the pit and then the move. He stopped there. He set the papers in his lap. 'How long?' he signed.

"How long were you gone?" Hesh repeated for confirmation. "Five months. Five very long months."

It was too much to sign, Logan decided. He couldn't bring himself to talk-or write-about all that pain. But remembering how his father had been there and what he'd done for him was easier. He reached for the tablet and scooted over so his brother could sit on the bed with him. Hesh did. Then, holding the tablet so Hesh could see, he started to write. 'I don't know when exactly. I lost count of the days and nights. Weeks. Months. It was raining again. Hard. I was cold and sick and disgusting. I was so hungry I ate worms. I was ready to give up. Not to Rorke. I wanted to drown myself in the mud. Dad told me not to. He could hear me think. I thought I was crazy. It scared me. But then he touched me. And I didn't care if I was crazy. I didn't want to be alone. He was hard to see through the rain, but I could see him better later. He promised to tell the truth for every lie Rorke told so Rorke couldn't turn me.'

"Rorke gave us the coordinates for the pit," Hesh told him. "Had to be just after he moved you. You were there for more than three months. It must have been awful."

It shocked Logan to finally know how long he'd been there. How had he even survived that? He wrote again. 'Dad could touch me, but he couldn't keep me from choking when they pulled me up. But when Rorke pulled me backward in the river, I felt Dad catch my head so it didn't bang on the rocks. Everything else did. He couldn't push Rorke off me when he held me down. He wasn't sure what he could do yet. It was new to him. He wanted to kill Rorke.'

"He wasn't the only one," Hesh said quietly. "I still don't know how he survived the train." He took a deep breath. "I didn't think about there being rules to being a ghost." Hesh prompted the next part. "Rorke put you on a plane, in a crate. He sent us the crate."

Logan nodded. He remembered how scared he was, how desolate and cold. 'Dad went to the cockit on the plane. He wanted to know where Rorke was taking me. He was so mad at Rorke that he messed up the power on the plane. He backed off because he didn't want it to crash.'

"That explains the monitors," Hesh said. "It wasn't the first time Dad came, I think. I think he woke Riley up once. And Riley tried to wake me, but I was tired and told him to be quiet. But the next time, the monitors in the comm center went crazy. Even after I unplugged one. Then Riley got into it. Finally, Dad must have pulled Merrick's chair out from under him. He fell on his ass and Riley licked his face." He laughed just a bit.

Logan tried to picture that and it made him smile. But it was also sad. It all could have been over so much sooner if the rules had been different. 'You couldn't see him. Or hear him.'

"No. Just what he did. Sometimes. I think Riley could see him though," Hesh told him. "Dad had him sit and speak and roll over. We just didn't put it together that it was Dad yet."

'He needed power to do more,' Logan wrote. 'He could get it from batteries. When they cut me, they used a car battery to shock me. Dad took power from it and turned it on them. He stabbed one guy in the eye. Rorke wasn't scared though. He shocked me hard. Dad drained the battery dead to make it stop.'

"I noticed they didn't try that again," Hesh said.

'Rorke had lots of other ideas.' Flashes of different Rorke events flashed in his mind: his fingernails, the blades, breaking his arm. He forced himself to think of his father. 'Sometimes Dad just held me. He put my head on his lap when I slept. Sometimes he messed with the guards. When Rorke lied to me and said you weren't trying to find me, Dad told me you had a bed for me. When Rorke said he had you, Dad said he didn't. He'd seen you. And he learned something terrible.'

"What was that?"

'The only way he had real power with you, to touch things, was when they were hurting me.'

Hesh was silent. Logan didn't want to look at him. But he heard him beside him. Hesh had stopped breathing. Finally, he spoke. "That explains the kitchen. He was pissed. He was throwing pans and slamming cabinets. He carved CHI on the counter. Then it stopped."

'That was when Rorke killed his men. Then he cut my leg.' He didn't write the rest of that. It was already making him queezy. Besides, Hesh knew it already.

"That's just not fair!" Hesh exclaimed. "Why didn't he use that power where you were? He could have killed Rorke, stopped the men."

'Didn't work there,' Logan wrote. 'He could only touch me. Unless he got power from batteries or electronics.'

Hesh sighed. "Well, one night, he woke me up. Kicked my bed, I think. He took a knife and carved DAD in the wall. That's when we knew it was him. He started to write Colombia. But the knife fell. We figured it out anyway."

'Sanchez mock drowned me. He didn't try very hard.'

"So at the airport, when he wrote everything in blood on the glass-" Hesh didn't continue.

'They were beating me. I told him to go. To make you understand. He did. He told me.'

"Logan, he must have been so angry! He killed probably a dozen enemies before we even got to them. Now it all makes sense."

Logan thought about that and remembered the night Hesh came for him. 'Dad told me it was you in the dark.'

"I thought so. You weren't afraid of me anymore. He must have called Riley down, too."

Rorke was at the door. He fell. The knife. 'He could only touch me so he helped me with the knife. He put his hands around mine.'

"So he did finally figure out how to kill Rorke. You had to kill him." Hesh put his arm around Logan's shoulders. "I'm glad you had him with you. Even if I couldn't see him like you did. I can't imagine how I would have survived all that alone."

'I would've drown myself in the mud.'

"I'm glad you didn't. I don't think I could have handled losing you both. I wasn't handling it very well as it was. You can ask Merrick. I pushed myself too hard when I was supposed to be recovering from my wounds. I went without sleep. I only ate so I wouldn't get benched. It was the worst five months of my life. Logan, I'm so sorry I couldn't go after you right away. I wanted to. Keegan did as soon as he found me. He and Riley went looking. But they lost your trail."

Logan remembered Hesh there on the beach, reaching for him. Screaming his name. 'I was so scared. All the time. Of what he'd do. I was afraid he'd turn me into a monster like him.'

"I'm very glad he couldn't. I don't think I could have faced you as an enemy. That would have killed me."

Rorke was gone but Logan remembered what he'd said. How Hesh had wanted Merrick to get the data. 'What did he mean about his boss wanting me?'

Hesh paused a minute before answering. "That floored me. I thought it would end with Rorke." He rubbed his hand though his close-cropped hair. "We're not sure. We don't know who it is. But it turns out all this time we thought Rorke was fixated on you, it was his boss instead."

'Then it's not over.'

"It is for now. You're safe here. This is the same hospital they'd bring the president to if he had an emergency. The Fed cannot get you here. And when you leave here you're going to our base. We won't let them take you again, Logan. None of us." He got up from the bed. "That reminds me."

Hesh went over to the bag on the couch. He dug around in it then pulled out a card. "Everybody signed this for you." Hesh handed him the card.

It was a 'Get Well Soon' card. Logan read the printed words quickly then opened it. The whole inside was covered in signatures and well wishes. He found Merrick's and Keegan's signatures. There was Kick's. There were names he didn't know. New people perhaps. There was a woman's pretty signature. Chaplain Estelle Sawyer. 'May God Heal Your Heart as He Heals Your Body.' That certainly sounded like a chaplain. But the best was 'David "Hesh" Walker.' Riley even put a paw-print on it.

"You're still a Ghost, Logan," Hesh said. "You're still one of us." Then he looked at the clock. "Dang. I'm going to shower and change before Estelle gets here."

Logan did not like being alone. He felt safe, for the most part, when Hesh was there. The panic stayed at a distance. But when he was gone, it snuck back on to him. The doctor came while Hesh was still in the shower. The doctor told him to try and relax and he took deep breaths to try. He wasn't terribly afraid of the doctor. Maybe because the one in Colombia had been reasonable. He'd actually helped when Logan was sick. He remembered having a blanket and good food for awhile there. Logan concentrated on his memory of that week, when he was starting to feel better and had enough water.

The doctor tapped on his chest a few times and then stood back with a concerned look. "Your breathing is a bit noisy. And you have a slight fever."

Logan picked up his tablet. 'I had pneumonia.' He was afraid it was coming back.

The doctor read the tablet. "How long ago?"

Logan started to panic. He didn't know. Five months all together. Three months in the pit. It was in the last two months. Then he remember the reports. He took them and rifled through until he found one where Rorke complained about coddling him on the doctor's orders. He showed the doctor.

The doctor read it. "Are those all like this? Reports from your captors?"

Logan nodded.

"May I borrow them?" He asked nicely but Logan wasn't sure if Hesh wanted to share them. Or if he did, would the whole hospital read them? The doctor must have noticed his discomfort. "I promise to bring them right back. It's just that it would help us to treat you if we knew the specifics. Only your doctors will read them. No one else."

Reluctantly, Logan handed the papers to him.

"Thank you," the doctor said. "I'm going to have the nurse take a blood sample. You may still have a touch of that pneumonia. We'll want to get on that right away." The doctor touched his shoulder and then left. And Logan was alone again.

* * *

Estelle knocked to announce her presence then pushed open the door a bit. She could see Logan sitting up in his bed with his knees cradled to his chest and his head down. She opened the door farther. David wasn't there. Then she heard the shower. So he was there, just not with Logan. And Logan wasn't taking it very well. It was going to be even harder for him when David had to go back in two days.

"Good morning, Logan," she said, keeping her tone bright. "Have you had breakfast?"

Logan didn't look up but nodded.

She decided to broach the one subject that had really nagged her. The fact that he couldn't talk. She decided to sign as she spoke, "Logan, do you sign?"

The movement may have caught his attention because he looked up.

"It's just," she said, "I can't read your mind like David seems to. You two have quite a connection."

His left hand came up, his thumb and index finger just a bit apart. 'A little.'

"I'm a bit rusty myself," she told him. "I haven't had the occasion to sign in years really. But staying with my sister and her husband brought it all back. It's kind of like riding a bike. I'm the only one in my whole family who isn't deaf so I learned to sign before I learned to talk. Can you tell me why you don't sign?"

He picked up his tablet. He was probably rustier than she was. She read it when he held it up for her. His knees went down and he settled more against the mattress. 'Bullies.'

"I know a thing or two about them, myself," she admitted. Even deaf kids could be cruel. There was a time in her youth when she pretended to be deaf herself just to fit in. "In the deaf community, I was the odd man out."

'People think less of me,' he wrote on the tablet.

Estelle thought about that. A soldier who signed would cause a stir. People might think him deaf and that would be a liability for a soldier. If his teammates thought he couldn't hear, they'd have less confidence in him. Besides, it was hard to sign and carry a gun at the same time. "I think I understand. But I want you to know that I won't think any less of you. It's very normal to me. And I know a lot of really smart, capable deaf people. And you're not even deaf. So if you'd like to practice and not have to write everything, I'll understand you just fine. It must have been hard to keep most of your thoughts to yourself for so many years."

'Used to it,' he wrote. Then he set down the tablet. The signs were halting and less fluid than a fluent signer would use but they were there. 'Forgot a lot.'

"That's okay. If nothing else you can spell it. And grammar isn't all that important in sign. You don't need to worry about your 'ings' and your 'eds.'"

David emerged from the bathroom, freshly dressed in his civies. "Oh, hey, Estelle."

"Good morning, David. Logan and I were just practicing some sign language. What about you? Surely you learned when he did."

His signs were even more halting, and so was his speech as he said the words he tried to sign. "Yes but I watched more than signed."

Estelle smiled. "I'd already decided you two speak telepathically."

"It's all those years we spent together in the woods," David said, giving up on the signing. "I just kind of get him, ya know."

Someone knocked and the door opened. Eric came in with a tray. "I just need to draw a blood sample. Would that be okay?"

Logan took a deep breath but nodded. Eric went around the bed to Logan's left side. As he took Logan's arm, Estelle noticed the picture on the wall. It was a lovely picture of downtown KC with the trees in bloom. "Logan, has anyone actually told you where you are yet?"

Logan looked away from his arm to her. He shook his head.

"Oh!" David said. "I just didn't think of it."

"You're in Kansas City, Missouri," Estelle informed him. "My hometown, actually. ODIN, thankfully, burned up in the atmosphere before it could fire on KC. It was targeted. It's a nice place really. One of my favorite things is all the trees. You don't see a lot of downtowns that have as many trees as Kansas City. You can look out from the Liberty Memorial there," she pointed to it, "and see what looks like woods or forests. In the summer, you couldn't even see the neighborhoods tucked into them. Presently, it's autumn so all the leaves are turning and falling."

"Our hometown didn't fare so well," David said. He sat on the edge of the other bed. "Our house was ruined. We barely got out."

"You guys were young then, weren't you," Estelle asked.

"I'd just graduated high school," David replied. "Logan was fifteen."

"All done," Eric announced as he taped a cotton ball to the inside of Logan's elbow. "Just leave that on for ten minutes or so."

"What's up?" David asked Logan when Eric had left.

Logan used the tablet. Estelle didn't see what he wrote.

"I hope not," David told him. "You feel okay?"

Then there was that sign again. 'A little.' So he was a little sick. Estelle hoped it wasn't serious but she decided not to pry. Yet.

"Well," David said, relaxing again. "I suppose you're in the right place if you do. They'll take care it."

Logan signed a few words, 'It was good time before.'

David nodded and explained. "Logan had pneumonia. Probably from being wet and cold all the time. Anyway, Rorke had to let a doctor treat him. For a week they left him alone. He had a blanket and good food, water bottles with clean water."

Estelle smiled at that. "'God works all things for the good for those who love him.' I see you found your clothes. Logan, there are some for you in the bag as well. And some boots. You will not have to leave here in a robe. I brought you something else." She took an mp3 player from her pocket and walked over to show him. "For the quiet times. I've got a lot of music in there. Grouped it to how you might be feeling so you can find what you might need at any given moment. Notice the Wallow group there. Sometimes you just need to wallow in it. I get that. I usually allow myself one good wallow day. There are some good songs there that meet you where you are. But then you need a pick-me-up. So you go to the Healing group, and so on. And when you just need silly, there's Weird Al. There's also Mozart because, well, Mozart."

Logan scrolled through the songs in some of the groups as David looked on. "Those are the songs you play in the sanctuary, right? They're pretty good."

"Yep," Estelle replied. "And some of them are my walking songs. They have good, rockin' beats. Some of them get me going four miles an hour."

Estelle kept the conversation light for the rest of the morning. She wanted Logan to have the opportunity to feel as normal as possible. The doctor returned with some papers, and David put them into an envelope on the table by the bed. Then it was time for lunch, and they experimented with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. David tore off a corner of Logan's and ate it. Logan was able to keep the rest of the sandwich down. In fact, he ate two more. He washed them down with a nutrition shake, of course. He was still far too thin.

* * *

Logan felt surreal. It was like he was normal, just a guy sitting with his brother and a friend chatting about this and that. Or listening to them chat. Watching her sign as she did. It was strange, like the last five months hadn't happened. But his body kept reminding him that it had. His ribs hurt, his arm ached and the inside of his thigh itched. He didn't scratch it. He didn't even want to look at it. Estelle didn't look at him like a poor victim. And he found he liked that. It pushed the panic he just couldn't shake a little farther down in him so it didn't feel so close.

Her brother-in-law, it turned out, was a barber. He'd agreed to come and give him a haircut later in the week. Logan looked forward to that. Then he remembered what she'd said. Hesh wouldn't have to leave for a few days. He'd be gone later in the week. He'd be halfway across the continent. Logan didn't feel normal anymore.

Two days later, the IV was back in his arm filling him with antibiotics to fight the pneumonia and Hesh was gone. Estelle stayed behind but Logan just couldn't pretend the he was getting better without Hesh there. He was a mess, a broken man who'd lost his voice as a child, his father in front of his face, his health and dignity to a madman, and now his newly reunited brother. There was no one left to be his voice. He couldn't sign for her. He didn't feel like using the tablet. She put the earphones in his ears and started the Wallow list. Then she pulled up a chair to sit beside him.

When he stopped to listen, the music really did meet him. It was like the songs were written for him. How had she done that? One said, "Are the walls to lock you in or to keep others away? And if the doors were to be opened would you leave or would you stay? The comfort of your misery you cherish dearly, you cherish dearly. And you haven't started dreaming 'cause you're still fast asleep, you're fast asleep." The second verse was even more intense. "You're a lion full of power who forgot how to roar. You're an eagle full of beauty but you can't seem to soar. Will you return to the garden where we were first made whole? Will you turn to the one who can liberate your soul?"

By the time the list was done, Estelle had a book out. She pulled out the earphones and started to read. And Logan listened as she read about beings called Hobbits in a land called the Shire.


	9. Chapter 9

**More Than a Ghost**  
by Philippe de la Matraque

 **Chapter Nine**

Estelle's voice had gone hoarse. Two days had passed since David had had to return and Logan hadn't eaten. They'd left the IV in and switched to saline just to keep him hydrated. She'd kept them from using a feeding tube thus far. He was grieving, she told them, and it was a stage he needed to go through. Which was true. But he also needed to eat and he needed to heal and it wasn't going to happen this way. He was giving up and she couldn't let him do that.

She ordered a nutrition shake and a straw and took it from the nurse at the door so they wouldn't be disturbed. He was lying on his side. He wasn't asleep, but his eyes were red. Estelle put the shake on the floor and then knelt beside him. She gently pushed the hair out of his eyes. "Logan, honey, you need to eat. They're threatening a feeding tube, and I know you don't want that. They push it up your nose and down to stomach. You don't want that. I've got a shake here. I need you to sit up and drink it."

He didn't move. She kept talking. "I know this hard for you. You and your brother are closer than any siblings I've ever met. But you're going to see him again. He'll be back in San Diego by tomorrow, and we can maybe take a trip down to the comm center and give him a call. We can get a wheelchair. We'll explore this hospital a bit. Okay? Can you sit up for me?"

He blinked. Well that was something. He sniffed than started to move. He was making an effort so she met him halfway and adjusted the bed for him. She opened the bottle and put the straw in. His hand shook as he took it. But he drank it.

She remembered then something important that might help him. "I've got something to show you. Your brother left it behind but I brought it with me. She took the birthday card from her bag and handed it to him. Logan opened it. A small object fell out. He held it up. It was a necklace with a small vial for a pendant. Estelle couldn't see what was in it. "I'm just going to stretch my legs for a bit," she said. "I'll be back in five minutes."

* * *

Logan held the vial in his right hand. It was his mother's hair. He'd lost his original vial when Rorke took him and dumped him in the pit with nothing. This vial was smaller and there was less hair. Hesh must have split what he had. Logan felt a lump in his throat. He opened the card. Hesh had covered a whole page.

"Dear Logan,

"I'd say Happy Birthday but I know you're not happy today. I'm not happy today. Estelle, our new chaplain gave me this card and told me to write. She said you'd read it someday. I wish she could tell me which day that would be because I don't know. I look for you or news of you every time we go out. And every time we come up empty-handed I'm drawn right back to that beach, cursing myself for my weakness when he took you. I tried to follow but I couldn't make my legs work right. Keegan came for me. He took Riley to look for you but it was too late. You were gone. Rorke taunts us now and then with some hint of you. Your mask, your helmet. The pit he left you in for months. The crate he flew you away in. But that was it. No more taunts. I'm scared it means you're dead. You and Riley are all I have left.

"I want to tell you how much I miss you but there just aren't words. You've been my shadow since you could walk. It's like I lost a part of me. I'm just not who I was without you beside me. We only had four days, Logan. Four days since Dad died. Was killed. You were so brave to break lose and try to fight Rorke. Don't ever blame yourself for Dad's death. I know I told you that on the carrier but I think you still need to hear it. Rorke killed him. You did everything you could to stop him.

"And you saved my life, too. Do you realize that? I meant for us to die as long as Rorke was dead, too. That's why I ordered them to fire on the train. If we couldn't take him on our own, we'd take him down with us. I wasn't expecting to survive. But you did it. You pulled me through the water and onto the beach. I still don't know how Rorke survived but I know that you're a hero. My hero. I love you, Logan. I miss you.

"Well, I'm running out of card so I'll close with this. Next year-God we've got to have found you by then!-I'll make sure you have the happiest birthday anyone ever had. I will never give up on you. I love you. Wherever you are.

"Love, Hesh"

* * *

Estelle knocked before she went back in. Logan wiped his eyes quickly. Estelle acted as if she hadn't noticed. He carefully put the card back into its envelope and set it on the table by the bed. He still had the necklace. "Would you like a hand with that?" she asked. He nodded so she took it from him and undid the clasp. "What is it?"

'My mother's hair,' he signed. She smiled inside. He was coming back.

She continued talking as she put the chain around his neck and fixed the clasp behind his head. "Stan and Rosie are coming tomorrow. You can get that haircut you've been wanting. I've also asked him to bring an electric razor. David said you prefer a clean shave, and your bruises are just about gone, so I think it's time. I'll finally get to see how you really look. I can already tell you're a handsome man. You probably turned a lot of young ladies' heads with your good looks and quiet mystery."

She lifted his mp3 player from the bed and removed the earphones. "I think we'll just play this one out loud." She started the Healing playlist. The first song started to play and then the words, which seemed very fitting for him: "Lay your head down tonight/ Take a rest from the fight/ Don't try to figure it out/ Just listen to what I'm whispering to your heart/ 'Cause I know this is not/ Anything like you thought/ The story of your life was gonna be/ And it feels like the end has started closing in on you/ But it's just not true/There's so much of the story that's still yet to unfold..."

Music, she'd found, had a way to soothe the heart, and some of the songs she'd collected for years were just made to be the soundtrack of her life. Worn by Tenth Avenue North back when it was really hard. I Need You Now by Plumb went right in there, too. But that one that had just played, Glorious Unfolding by Stephen Curtis Chapman was the one that started to uplift her spirit. Then Greater by Mercy Me helped her find joy again. She hoped these songs and others could lift Logan's spirit, too.

"I wish we weren't in a cave," she told him. "I'd go to the window and open it wide to let the sun in."

She looked back at him. He did look a little more alive. He eyed the empty bottle on the bedside table. 'More?'

Estelle smiled and put the order in for another shake, some fruit, and those sneaky cookies Dr. Gordon made from Kick's recipes. Wallow was over. Healing could begin.

* * *

Nurse Eric made Logan promise to drink lots of water, but he removed the IV and brought a wheelchair around. But Logan didn't want to go down to the comm center yet. Merrick might answer or Keegan and he wanted to look more like himself. Estelle had helped him put on a robe and took him out into the hall in the wheelchair. They explored the parts of the hospital that were open to them. She even asked Dr. Gordon if they could go outside. The doctor had gotten a blanket to wrap him up in and told them to be back in a half an hour. "I might need a blanket, too," Estelle said. "It is fall out there."

She pushed him out into the parking lot which was brightly lit and then pointed him toward the entrance to the cave. They didn't venture far beyond it. But it felt good to be out under the sky. Logan felt the sun on his face for the first time in months and closed his eyes in its warmth. There was a cool breeze that blew through his hair and tickled his face. His beard itched. He was glad he'd be getting a shave tomorrow. She was right. Sometimes you just had to wallow. But then you needed a pick-me-up. He was still scared and still sore but he felt that maybe he was ready to get better now. He wanted to get out of the hospital and go to San Diego where Hesh was. He wanted to sleep in the bed Hesh had for him, to run his fingers through Riley's hair. He wanted to live.

* * *

Dr. Gordon was waiting for them when Estelle wheeled Logan back into the hospital. "Your labs came back clean, Sergeant Walker. The pneumonia is all cleared up. And we can even remove some of those stitches today." She led them to an exam room off the ER and set the brakes on the wheelchair. She pulled over a stool and sat in front of Logan's chair.

She slid over a table and put Logan's right arm onto it. "It's important you don't move that arm," she told him. "Once that cut heals, we'll give you a real cast, maybe in another week." She carefully cut away the bandages. Estelle offered to leave but he grabbed her hand with his left hand and she stayed. She pulled the mp3 player from the pocket on his robe and he nodded. She slipped the earphones into his ears and he let go of her hand to choose the music. He surprised her by going to the Mozart. Then he took her hand again and closed his eyes. The cut on his arm was a good eight inches long, but Dr. Gordon was skilled and she had the stitches out in minutes. She reset the splint and wrapped his arm up tight again. Then she carefully pulled back the robe and lifted the edge of Logan's hospital gown, tucking it just past the end of the bandages. She cut through those and Estelle saw another long incision. There was rectangle section near his knee that had stitches around it as well. The color was different than the rest of his skin. These were scars he'd likely carry for the rest of his life. She squeezed his hand a little tighter. Dr. Gordon had redressed his thigh and pulled the gown back down.

Dr. Gordon took one earphone from Logan's ear and he opened his eyes. "All done. You're healing nicely. But you are still woefully underweight. We need to get you to eat some meat soon, okay. You need some nice big meals to bulk you up." Logan's face blanched slightly. Estelle wasn't sure if it was because he was a vegetarian-few soldiers were in her experience-or if meat was a source of trauma for him. But he had kept his breakfast down, and soon they were wheeling back up to his room.

She rolled him up to his bed, but he surprised her and pointed to the couch. She thought she'd probably be sick of a bed after being in it in for a week and half, too. So she pushed him over to the couch and helped him sit back there. She sat beside him. "You seemed upset about the prospects of meat," she said as she took his hand again. "Are you a vegetarian? Or is it something else."

He used his right hand to spell out 'papers'.

So she got up and found the envelope David had put in one of the drawers of the table. She gave it to him and he flipped through them slowly. Finally he showed her a page and handed it to her. It was a report about a torture session. She was confused about why this Rorke fellow had skinned two of his own men alive. And then there was the part that explained Logan's issues with food altogether. Rorke had cut a piece of skin from Logan's leg and stuffed it into Logan's mouth. Estelle felt sick herself. That was that rectangle on his leg. "Okay," she finally said. "We can get through this. I'm going to name some meat and you squeeze my hand when we get to one that you think maybe won't remind you of this."

Steak was out, as was pork chop. Chicken wouldn't work. Finally, he squeezed her hand at fish. Fish was very different. They had no legs and the texture of the meat was nothing like the meat of a mammal or bird. They decided on a breaded fish filet with tartar sauce. It would be the most ambitious thing he'd eaten since she'd arrived. It also gave her another idea.

When the food arrived there was a large gelcap on each plate. She picked it up and showed it to him. "This is fish oil, Omega-3s. But studies in recent years have shown that fish oil counteracts many food-borne poisons." His eyes narrowed skeptically, but she didn't need him to really believe her. She just wanted to trick his body again.

"I find that if I tap my teeth on a big pill like that, it helps it go down. Kind of like making my body think I've chewed it," she offered. He tried it and washed it down with water. She cut a piece of a small piece of fish off and offered it to him on a fork. "Do you need me to eat it first?"

He took the fork and a deep breath then ate the bite. Estelle noticed the tub was clear on the other side of his bed and they were still on the couch. He cut another bite off awkwardly given his dominant arm was splinted up so well. He dipped it in tartar sauce and ate that bite, too. "Are you good?" she asked. He nodded. So she picked up her own plate, swallowed her own fish oil, and they ate in companionable silence.

* * *

Stan and Rosie came early the next morning. They were a very animated couple, and Logan found he could only catch a word here and there from the flurry of their hands. Thankfully, Estelle translated even as she signed. Stan needed to know how he wanted his hair and Logan signed to him, 'I am soldier.'

'Very good,' he signed back. He had Logan sit on a stool near the wall and an electrical outlet. He draped a cape around Logan's neck. Then he signed again. 'If at any time you feel uncomfortable, put up a hand and we'll take a break.'

Logan nodded. He was fine until the scissors came out. So he closed his eyes so he couldn't see them. Stan finished with the clippers, then trimmed Logan's beard. He tilted Logan's chin up and got to work with the razor. Logan just kept his eyes closed and told himself this was all very different from Colombia. He was regaining his dignity. When he finished Rosie shook her hands in the deaf form of applause. Logan stood and ignored the pain in his feet as he went into the bathroom to look in the mirror. He touched the mirror then his own face. He recognized that guy there. He was thin, gaunt even, but it was him. Dad always said he had his mother's face, especially her eyes. Logan couldn't remember her but he liked to think it was true anyway. "I was right," Estelle said. "You are a very handsome young man." Logan smiled. Maybe she was right about more than that. Maybe what had happened to him didn't have to define his life. He wasn't a miserable lump of suffering nothing any more. He was Sergeant Logan T. Walker again.

Well, mostly. His feet still hurt and his ribs ached and that stubborn panic in his chest still hadn't completely left him. He made his way back to the couch, and Rosie gave him a sign-language book. She said Estelle had told her he'd forgotten a lot. He thanked her. He felt very comfortable signing with them. No one looked at him strangely or thought less of him. They didn't ask him why he was in the hospital but talked of more pleasant things. Logan felt a bit more normal in a way he never had before. Stan and Rosie stayed for lunch and they all had fish sandwiches. Estelle and he had fish oil, and Logan didn't feel sick at all. He'd even managed scrambled eggs for breakfast.

In the afternoon after their guests had left, Estelle wheeled him down to the comm center, and they put in a call to San Diego. Keegan answered. "Logan! Wow, you're looking pretty good. Skinny but good. Hey, Kick, get Hesh over here!"

Keegan left and Hesh got in front of the camera. "Logan! You got that haircut and shave. Nice! How's the pneumonia? You good?"

Logan nodded and Hesh told him about the train trip back to San Diego. He gave him an update on the war seeing as he'd missed some very serious gains for the country. Logan learned that the Canadians were manning the southern boarder and that American forces had liberated San Antonio just recently. Thousands of survivors were trucked north to Oklahoma. They were all Hispanic Americans. Logan understood that the Federation had killed all the others. The navy had destroyed the Panama Canal, splitting the Federation's navy into two. Loki had destroyed the Federation's Pacific navy. Canada and European allies were pushing them out of the northern Atlantic as well. The war wasn't over but it was no longer a defensive war against a more powerful enemy. It was an offensive war against a weakened enemy.

Hesh told him about the base, how it was a church and about the solar panels on the roof for power. Logan, with Estelle's help, told him that he'd managed a fish sandwich for lunch and had most of his stitches out. And finally, Hesh had Riley jump up on the desk so Logan could see him. Riley barked and grinned. "He misses you," Hesh said. "We both do."

"We all do!" came from off screen.

"You hurry and get healthy enough for discharge. I want you to come home."

That sounded very good. Home.

* * *

Logan progressed quickly after that call. Estelle was sure he was still traumatized-trauma just doesn't go away after a month-but he was focused hard on getting home. And that's what he considered it now. Home was where his brother and his dog were. And she was fine with that. He wouldn't be put into the field right away so she still had time to help him once they got back to San Diego.

He continued to take the fish oil and his repertoire of food increased. He still didn't eat certain meats but he had managed a grilled chicken breast-skinless, of course. And he had bacon-extra crispy-with his eggs for breakfast. The bruises were all gone, and the long cuts healed to scars. He could now wear pajamas since they didn't have to bandage his thigh any more. His feet were feeling better so he walked fairly well. They regularly strolled the hospital and took a few short walks out to see the sun or sunset. Stan and Rosie came to visit every now and then and Logan's signing was improving. He practiced the signs in the book like he was at school. And sometimes she found he'd try and sign what she read out of the book. He was finding his voice again. She knew he'd probably hide it around soldiers but it was nice to see him expressing himself. Logan managed to shave on his own and was showering without issue. His ribs had to be rewrapped but he was learning to do that on his own as well. She felt it was important to him to take over doing things on his own.

She understood that feeling. No one had coddled her when she'd had that first trauma. She hadn't even had therapy. But she'd gone to school the very next day, went to her after-school job, and handled her chores at home. Though she'd shake terribly when she told the story of the man that attacked her that night. And she had irrational fears even walking to bus stop or working at Kmart. It took ten years for the shaking to stop. But she still had a sort of radar for "weird" men. Men that set off her trauma button. She didn't know what it looked like but she knew it was apparent to those around her. Her body switched into survival mode, ready for flight or fight and she was vulnerable. Fortunately, she hadn't seen a "weird" man in several years.

Trauma stayed with you. But you were still alive so you lived. And Logan wanted to live. He wanted to be as normal as possible. And he was getting his wish. He'd apparently entered the hospital weighing no more than ninety-five pounds. His military file had had him at one seventy. His last recorded weight was one twenty-five. He was going to be discharged, with orders for follow up by medical staff in Los Angeles on a regular basis.

Dr. Zobrist would be giving him a checkup in the morning and if there were no issues, they were going home.

* * *

Logan was excited. For the first time in a very long time, he was anxious to move on. He was really sick of the four walls of his room, even with the nice picture and the big TV. He'd had enough of it. He felt a thousand times better. His ribs and arm still ached a bit but his feet were good and the cuts had stopped itching. There was still that nagging panic hiding in his chest but the more he managed on his own, the more he focused on remembering his signs, on being "normal," the more he could push it down so that it didn't interfere.

Dr. Zobrist was the doctor who'd read the reports. Logan hadn't learned his name then. But now he'd learned them all. He even signed to answer their questions. Estelle translated for them. When the doctor came in the morning, Logan had his clothes set out on the other bed. He was also tired of pajamas. The doctor asked what he'd had for breakfast and Logan told him, 'Biscuits and gravy with sausage and orange juice.'

"Hearty," the doctor commented. "Which is good. You still only weigh as much as my teenage daughter. Keep that up."

The doctor listened to his chest, took his pulse and his temperature. He tested the tenderness of Logan's ribs. Finally, he stood up. "Go downstairs and Dr. Gordon will fit you with a proper cast for that arm. It stays on for another two months, understood?"

Logan nodded. He could live with that as long as he was going home.

Finally the doctor picked up his chart and started writing. "Be sure to wear a jacket. It's November. May not mean much in California, but this is Missouri. We get weather here."

Logan smiled and Estelle gave him a thumbs up. As soon as the doctor was gone, Logan retrieved his clothes and moved to the bathroom to change. "I don't have a jacket for you, Logan. You didn't have one at the base. You'll just have to layer your uniforms." That was fine. He'd only be in Missouri for a little while longer.

Nurse Eric arrived five minutes later. "I've got you a going away present," he said. He held up a bag. "Vitamins. Take them! Three times a day. And enough fish oil to keep you stocked for a month."

Logan thanked him. Eric offered to carry his bag and they all walked downstairs together. They stopped at the comm station to let Merrick know they were discharged. He said he'd gotten them a good setup on the train and he'd see them in three days. Eric then passed them off to Dr. Gordon. She smiled. "Let's see that arm." She cut away that bandages and removed the splint. There was a long scar down the length of his forearm but the cut had healed. She wrapped it again in soft bandages and then began applying the plastered ones. When she was done, he had a rigid cast from his elbow to his wrist and between his thumb and fingers. She slipped it into a new sling and then held out her left hand in an offer to shake. Logan took it. "Good luck, Sergeant. Keep off that arm as much as possible. Keep it dry."

She and Estelle helped him put on two uniform jackets with his arm tucked inside. Then she walked them out into the parking area. There was a soldier waiting for them. "Sergeant Cain, ma'am," he introduced himself. "I'll be taking you both to Union Station. I've got you tickets for the 1630 train to LA. Sleeper car, full dining privileges."

The air was quite chilly and Logan pulled his uniform jackets closer. He marveled at the city as they left. Hesh was right. It was amazing to see a city so intact. He wished he'd seen those trees Estelle talked about though. All the leaves had fallen so the neighborhoods weren't hidden anymore. They got on a highway and headed west toward the tall buildings of downtown Kansas City. The clock on the dash board showed it was 11am. Sgt. Cain dropped them off in front of an impressive granite building. Estelle told him it was built in 1914 and then restored in the later years of the twentieth century. She'd been to the centennial celebration in 2014. They went through some heavy glass doors into a bustling hall with very high ceilings and large windows. Estelle pointed up and he looked up to see elaborate carvings and huge chandeliers. "I love those ceilings," she said. "You up for brunch?"

Logan nodded and they went toward the center of the hall. Estelle showed them her ID and they were seated just inside the rounded wooden wall. "This is Harvey's," Estelle told him. "It used to be in a different place here but it was here when the station opened. This was actually where they sold tickets back in the day."

They served breakfast all day so Logan ordered an ambitious plate. Ham with home-style potatoes and scrambled eggs. Estelle said the cinnamon roll pancakes sounded too good to pass up, so she ordered those. When they arrived they covered her entire plate! She asked for a to-go box right then and put most of them inside with plenty of syrup. "I'll be eating those the entire trip!" she exclaimed as she started to dig in to what was left on her plate. "But they're good! Wanna bite?"

Logan did. They were very sweet. But tasty. Still he wanted to gain weight, not fat, so he stuck with his heartier breakfast. He swallowed a fish oil and one of Eric's vitamins and then tucked in. The ham was intimidating but when he put the first bite in his mouth, it did not match with the memory of that awful day. It was good and smoky, also somewhat sweet. The egg was perfect and the potatos were great.

"I'm going to just sign," Estelle said. 'Then people will just think we're two deaf people having a conversation.'

They spent the morning like that and had sandwiches for lunch. They waited for their train on a long bench in an even bigger hall lit by huge windows on either side. A deaf couple sat near them and started asking them where they were headed and what they'd done in town. Estelle made up stuff and Logan played along. They'd seen the Arabia Steamboat Museum, whatever that was, and of course the National World War I Museum just on the other side of the hill from where they were. They'd stayed with family while they were on leave. The young man was surprised to find a deaf soldier, but Logan told him he worked in an office. Of course, he never went out in the field. The young woman was studying to be a teacher. She had a passion for working with deaf children. Her boyfriend was studying forensic science. 'You don't have to hear to study evidence,' he signed. 'I going to solve crimes.'

Time passed quickly and it was 1615. They hugged their new acquaintances goodbye and headed for the train. Logan touched Estelle on the shoulder. 'You did that before.'

'When I was a kid,' she signed back. 'Sometimes it was just easier to pretend I was just like everyone else.'

'Know the feeling,' Logan replied. They boarded the train and found their sleeper car. It was actually a rather nice set up. There were only two beds. The rest of the car had benches and a table on one side and a rack for luggage on the other. There was a restroom behind one of the bunks. "Sweet!" Estelle exclaimed. "Better than I got on my way here!"

She put her bags down. The conductor came through and punched their tickets. He gave them a pamphlet with a menu and operating hours for the dining car three cars forward. Logan heard a loud voice shout, "All aboard!" A few minutes later, the train started to move. Logan took a seat at the bench and pulled back a curtain to look at the city as they passed. He was finally going home.

The first day passed much like his days in the hospital. Estelle read, sometimes they listened to music and he studied the sign language book. Only now they went to the dining car and pretended to be deaf for dinner. Logan left the uniforms in his bag and Estelle wore her civies, too. That way, there were less questions about such an impaired soldier being on the train. Or one who was so darn thin.

The second day they were passing through Colorado and Logan enjoyed looking at the mountains. Estelle joined at the window for those. They were headed southwest as they climbed into their bunks for the night. Tomorrow, they'd be home.

* * *

"Logan!" Logan didn't stir. He was lost in darkness, weighed down by some invisible force. "Wake up!"

Logan opened his eyes. Or maybe he just imagined he did. He saw his father in front of him. "Get off the train," he mouthed. Logan didn't hear his voice. Logan tried to move but he felt very heavy. He turned and fell off the bunk. He looked at Estelle. She was still asleep. He used the bunks to pull himself back up. He found his father by the luggage. He motioned that the bags should come down. Logan lurched over to the rack and pushed the bags to the floor. Then his father knelt on the floor and motioned lifting something. There was a rug. It took Logan what felt like hours to roll the carpet back. The was a trapdoor in the floor. He lifted it and saw the tracks passing below the train. They were lit by wan light. It was morning?

Logan left the trapdoor and went to Estelle. He took her by the arm and pulled her from the bunk. She fell with a thud. His father nodded and pointed to the trapdoor. Logan dragged her over to it. The tracks were passing more slowly. Dad pointed to the bags. Logan pushed one and then the other through the trapdoor and they disappeared. Dad pointed to Estelle. Logan was afraid he'd hurt her. Dad put up a finger to wait. He disappeared through the front of the car and returned a few minutes later. He took Estelle and put her through the trapdoor feet first so that her feet would be toward the back of the train. Dad pointed to him. Then he helped Logan through the door. It still hurt a bit when he landed but he stayed down, watching the train pass above him. Why had Dad gotten them off the train? Logan felt the weight pulling him down into blackness again.

When he awoke, the morning light was bright on his face. The train was gone but he was laying on the tracks. He pushed himself up to a sitting position and saw Estelle doing the same. She turned around. "Logan? Where's the train?"

'I think I saw my father,' he signed to her. 'He helped us off.'


	10. Chapter 10

More Than a Ghost  
by Philippe de la Matraque

Chapter Ten

Logan stood up shakily. He was hungry. But he looked himself over. No new wounds. He asked Estelle if she was okay. She nodded. Logan felt like it was a dream seeing his father but there was no doubt that they had gotten off the train. They were still in their pajamas. The sun was climbing the eastern sky and there was no sign of their train.

Logan saw something on the tracks further back, beyond Estelle. Their bags. He pointed toward them and they set off to retrieve them. Both of them checked inside their bag to see what all they had. Logan found his still zipped, his uniforms were there but not his boots. They had been by the bed. Estelle also had bare feet. That was not going to go well. What he did have was a knife, a pistol and several boxes of ammunition. He had his father's mask. He dug around further until he felt the smooth edges of his birthday card. He wasn't going to let that go. The mp3 player was in an outside pocket.

"I wish your father had thought about our shoes," Estelle said. But she had pulled out something perhaps more important. She had a radio. She put it to her mouth and said, "Corporal Sawyer to Ghost One-One." That was followed by static. "No signal." She turned it off.

Logan looked around, trying to think. If the train had been a danger, then it made sense getting off of it. Maybe Dad had really warned him. But then, they should probably not be found still on the tracks. There was no cover, no trees. What there were were rocks and scrub. Then he spotted a road perhaps fifty yards to their west. There was a ditch between here and there. It was better than nothing. He pointed her toward it and picked up his bag.

His feet had felt much better in the hospital, but then, he had socks or bandages or house shoes. Now he had none of those. The socks in his bag wouldn't help him much. They walked slowly, wincing as the rocks poked their feet. Logan kept looking around to see if anyone was near. Finally, they reached the ditch and dropped their bags.

"We need to change. Maybe we can find a town, get some shoes, make a call," Estelle said.

'We need to find where we are,' he signed back. He slipped his arm out of the splint and pulled out a uniform. As he started to change, he kept his back to her to give her privacy. Dignity was important to him now. Once he'd dressed, he pulled out the gun and loaded it. Then he strapped on the knife and put the extra ammo in his pockets. He wasn't even sure he could do anything with either. He hadn't since the train. Well, and Rorke. Maybe he could after all.

Estelle had a uniform as well. He'd only seen her in civies up to now. She put her hair in a ponytail and tucked it up under her hat. "I really want the shoes," she said.

'Me, too,' he signed back. The picked up their bags and stepped gingerly onto the road. It was old and cracked but at least it wasn't newly black asphalt. The road ran parallel to the train tracks. 'Which way?' he asked her.

"I see a sign down there," she said, pointing south. "It could give us an idea where we are."

The road was at least smoother than the surrounding gravel. They made quicker time. The street sign was on its side. They were not in the best part of the United States. That was clear. But there wasn't as much destruction as No Man's Land. They were, he judged, not far from the border. Finally they got close enough to read it. Albuquerque, 29 miles.

"We're not supposed to be in New Mexico," Estelle said. "The border post is north of Albuquerque. Maybe the Canadians can help."

They walked south, faster now that they a plan. There was no breakfast and there was no water. The sun kept climbing and it got hot. It was approximately two in the afternoon when they found an abandoned gas station. No cars. No phone. But there were a couple of old candy bars and one unopened bottle of water. The candy didn't do much to fill their stomachs but it was better than nothing. They took turns with the water, rationing it as best they could.

As the western sky brightened in brilliant orange and red, they could see the checkpoint. And a sizeable Federation force.

* * *

Logan left the road and headed quickly toward a small group of short, scrubby trees. He kept low as he went. Estelle followed. She didn't like going closer but if any one of the Federation soldiers looked their way, they'd be spotted. They needed a new plan.

There was a terrible smell once they reached the trees. Rot. Death. There were bodies there. They wore Canadian uniforms. Logan held one hand to his nose but went closer, checking their feet. He found a pair that must have looked his size and removed the man's boots. There was one woman in the pile. Her feet looked a bit bigger than Estelle's but she needed shoes, too. She tried to hold her breath against the smell but it still managed to get to her nose. She untied the boots quickly and pulled them off.

Logan already had his on. He had his gun out. His expression was stern but his eyes showed the fear he must have felt. She felt it. She had never been this close to the enemy before. She never seen them in person. She quickly closed her eyes and prayed for God's protection. She finished by reciting Psalm 23.

When she opened her eyes, Logan wasn't there. She started to panic but then saw him heading toward the back of one of the buildings. She kept her eyes open but prayed for him. Whatever he was doing, he was not the soldier he had been. Even if one discounted the PTSD. He was underweight and his muscles had atrophied significantly. If he had to fight an enemy, he'd lose. He was too weak for hand-to-hand combat.

She stopped just outside the open back door of the building. He reached in and grabbed something then slipped back out. Then he crouched and hurried back to her. He held up what he had. Keys and a radio. He pulled the earphones off his mp3 player and put them in the radio. He put one earbud in his ear and held the other out to her. She moved closer and put it in her ear. She concentrated on catching the Spanish she could understand. She had never been fluent. They were getting ready to leave. She caught that much. They weren't happy. Their leader was yelling. They hadn't found what they were looking for. They had checked the whole train. He wasn't there.

Logan started breathing fast. She reached out and squeezed his hand. They were after him. Then she let go and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to look at her and she signed, 'We wait for them to leave. They may leave a few here but it will be easier to get away. Stay here with the dead. They won't come this way.'

He nodded. The sun dipped below the horizon and the sky darkened. Estelle was cold but she didn't want to move a lot and cause anyone to look this way. They listened to the radio. A team was going to go north along the tracks. Most were going south. They expected the Americans or Canadians to be here tomorrow. Estelle thought maybe they could just stay until tomorrow then. Let their own people find them.

Someone came out of the building in front of them. He was walking straight toward them. Logan slipped further back in the trees closer to the bodies. Estelle slowly lowered herself to the ground. Too late. He saw her. The man pulled out a pistol and a flashlight and advanced quickly. Estelle backed up. She couldn't get out of his light. He stepped right out to the trees. "Out!" He ordered.

Estelle stood up slowly. She didn't turn her head but she couldn't see Logan peripherally. She took one step forward, then she saw him. He had his mask on. He slipped out of the dead. "Please," Estelle said, hoping to keep the man's attention on her. "I was just looking for water."

"Bonita," he said. "Come out. I won't hurt you." Estelle did not like the sound of that. Logan sprang up, his right arm, stiff in the cast, wrapped around the man's face and his left sliced the man's throat with his knife. The man dropped and Logan dropped with him. He dropped the knife and pulled the man into the trees as he gurgled his last breath. Estelle dropped back down. Logan was shaking. He took the man's gun and Estelle realized she should help. The body had resources. She pulled off his money, two grenades and ammo. Logan took binoculars, the flashlight, and the man's rifle. He touched the end of it then made the sign for 'silence'. It had a silencer. That was very good.

'We can't stay,' he signed with shaking hands. 'They'll look for him.' He used the binoculars and looked around. Then he fingerspelled, 'Jeep,' and pointed to the west. It was isolated just at the top of a slope. 'We push,' he signed.

Estelle nodded. She stuffed the grenades and ammo into his bag and handed it to him. She quickly put the shoes on her bare feet and grabbed her own bag. He kept low and ran toward the jeep. He used the binoculars then motioned her over. "Jesus be with me," she whispered then ran low as he had. The got to the jeep and he gave her the set of keys. She got in as he kept guard. She tried key after key. They weren't fitting. Why were there so many keys for this one small checkpoint anyway? Finally, the last key turned in the ignition. She didn't start the engine but put the jeep in neutral. She got back out, leaving one foot on the brakes. He went to the other door and they pushed. Her heart was pounding. No one was keeping guard but the jeep only moved slowly. After perhaps five minutes, it reached the slope and started to roll. They jumped in and eased the doors closed. The base had been on a plateau, this road sloped down into a canyon. So be it.

Without all the light pollution of a city, Estelle found the moon lit her path well enough to see. As they got farther out, into the shadows, Logan used the flashlight. Finally, he pointed to the ignition. She hit the brakes and started the engine. The jeep came to life. She started to turn on the headlights, but he put his hand on hers. He pointed the flashlight out in front of her. It was enough and less noticable if someone was watching this way. They drove that way for a half an hour and Logan got up in the back during a straight stretch. He watched the dark sky for a while then came back and turned on the headlights for her. Helicopters, she realized. He had looked for helicopters.

She sped up now that she could see. "What's our plan now?" she asked. "Do we try to get to San Diego? Do we try the next border crossing?"

She looked over and he signed, 'I don't know.' He stripped off the mask and held his face in his hands. He'd been as terrified as she was. They decided to go west. If they could make it to the border crossing safely, they would. If not, they'd go west and south, aiming for San Diego. They'd have to cross New Mexico and Arizona just to reach California.

Estelle told him to try the radio again. He dug it out of her bag and turned it on. He held down the transmit button and held it to her face. "Corporal Sawyer to Ghost One-One." He let go of the button and there was only static. They were still out of range. He turned it off. He took up the other radio and turned it on. They were still looking for them. The north team had found footprints. They were on to them. Estelle gunned it. They had to get away. She didn't want to die, and she didn't want them to take Logan again.

* * *

When the adrenaline finally wore out, Logan's eyes began to cross. He nodded off then jerked awake. Estelle touched his knee. "I'm quite awake. You get some sleep. I'll wake you if I get tired. I'll just have a quiet conversation with Jesus for a while." Logan nodded then scooted forward so he could lean his seat back. _Dad,_ he thought. _Thank you. Please come back. Tell Hesh where we are._

He heard nothing back and fell into troubled sleep. He was not safe. He dreamed Rorke was in the jeep with them. He laughed in the back seat. "The boss wants you, Logan. He sent a big party after you. One hundred men for one more Ghost."

"He's not here, Logan." It was father. "I'm sorry I forgot the shoes. You did good, Logan. You're still free and you kept her safe. I'm proud of you. Who is she anyway?"

"She's our chaplain." Logan was surprised when his voice worked. "Estelle. She stayed with me in the hospital."

"She's a good person," Elias said. "She has power. She's talking to Him now. Stay with her."

* * *

Hesh was pacing. "We need to get out there," he said.

"There's already a force heading down there," Merrick replied calmly. "The Canadians are joining our boys on this one. They took out one of their border patrols. They should be there any minute."

It seemed like hours, though it was probably far less than that, but the comms came to life. "Mounty Two-One to Ghost One-One."

Merrick picked up the radio, "Ghost One-One. Sitrep."

"There was a sizable force here. Looks like they stopped the train and meant to truck someone off. Your boy, I'm guessing. They drove the train south and wrecked it. We haven't found any survivors yet. The Federation bugged out leaving only a small force. We found our dead in a copse of trees behind the comm station. One of theirs there as well. His throat was slit and all his gear taken. I think maybe your boy wasn't on the train."

A hundred pounds dropped off Hesh's shoulders. They didn't have him. Logan was alive. There was still a sizable weight in his chest because Logan wasn't safe but he'd deal with that.

"Any other sign of him?" Merrick asked. "He had our chaplain with him, a woman. They could be hiding."

"Negative. We put on quite a show. I think they would have come out. We did find tracks going west into the canyon. They may have stolen one of our jeeps."

"Let's hope it was gassed up. Keep me posted. Ghost One-One out." Merrick handed the radio to Jackson. "She had a radio with her. Keep trying her."

"Yes, sir."

Merrick put his hand on Hesh's shoulder. "Logan is still a Ghost. He killed one of them. His training will kick in. We'll get him back."

* * *

Estelle didn't see anything to point her in the direction of the border. The roads didn't want to go north. When they did, a crater seemed to be in the way. Estelle didn't want to have to backtrack. The Federation could be after them even now. She kept driving west, talking with Jesus until she finally started seeing double. She shook her head. She was determined to make it to Arizona before giving up. She saw light in the rearview mirror. Morning was coming. Logan would be rested. He could drive from there. Fortunately, the jeep had good mileage. They still had half a tank.

The sky brightened and Estelle passed a 'Welcome to Arizona' sign as it lay beside the road. She pulled to a stop and nudged Logan. He stirred and she said, "Your turn. We just crossed into Arizona. It's going to be hot today."

She got out and Logan scooted over to take the wheel. "I'm just going to go over here for a minute. Nature's calling."

He nodded and kept looking straight ahead. Estelle went behind the jeep and did what she needed to do. As she zipped up, she asked if he needed a pit stop, too. He nodded again. He got out and stepped over the sign. Men had it easier in situations like this, she mused. She dug in her bag and pulled out the water bottle. It was half full, too. She took two swallows and closed it again. They both got back in the jeep and Estelle leaned back the way he had. He started the jeep up and it began to move. She didn't even remember falling asleep.

* * *

Phoenix. They were headed toward Phoenix. Phoenix was in occupied territory. It was just an hour out if the roads were straight and not broken up by craters. Logan thought that they could get to Vegas if he could just go northwest. But he'd run out of gas if he did. They couldn't cross two whole states in No Man's Land on foot. They'd have to risk Phoenix. Maybe they could steal a car.

He nudged Estelle and told her the plan. It was slow going as he had to hold the wheel with his left hand and he couldn't move his right wrist at all. "We'll have to change into civies," she said. "We'll pretend to be deaf again. We can't take this jeep in." She climbed into the back and started to change. The jeep ran out still ten miles out. It was going to be a long walk. Logan switched into his civies and put his bag over his shoulder. This was very scary.

They spotted a checkpoint and looked for a way around it. There was a long line of people trying to get in. There were two guards. And they were checking bags. "Lord, we need a way around this," Estelle whispered.

Logan watched as one of guards started banging his radio on his hand. Like the batteries had just died. Logan and Estelle moved into the line. Others moved behind then. They made their way forward. Logan watched the other guard do the same with his radio. Suddenly there was pushing and shoving at the front of the line. The guards were arguing, they took a man and his wife to the side, but the pushing and shoving didn't stop. Logan grabbed Estelle's hand and pulled her through the crowd while the guards were distracted. They and several others darted through the checkpoint and around a corner. They slowed to a walk. Logan and Estelle did as well. 'I think my Dad did that,' he told her.

'The Lord provides,' she replied. 'Whatever you do, do not respond to any sound. You can't hear.'

They were on the outskirts of town. Estelle pulled money from her pocket and counted it. 'You want to get some lunch?' she signed.

Logan nodded. They found a small cafe and went in. A waitress brought them a menu. A note fell out of it. Logan picked it up and showed it to Estelle. 'You need a wig.' The woman motioned for her to follow. Logan put his hand on his knife. Estelle signed 'Stay.' She left and disappeared into the back. Logan tried not to panic. _I'm deaf,_ he told himself. _I can't hear._

She returned a few minutes later. Her hair was dark. She sat down. There were only two other customers in the cafe. They weren't paying attention. The waitress returned and Estelle smiled and pointed to what she wanted. Logan quickly picked something he thought maybe he could manage and pointed to it."

The waitress didn't say anything and took their menus away. 'They're Americans,' Estelle signed. 'Her mother gave me her wig.'

Logan started to relax. This had been an American city. It was under occupation. The Federation usually killed all the non-Hispanics that couldn't get out. Estelle's blond hair had been an issue. Now it wasn't. The waitress came back with the food. Logan got into his bag for his fish oil. He made himself believe what she said about it. He had to trick his body. Here in the land of the enemy especially. He was very hungry. He had ordered enchiladas. There was Fanta to drink. He ate every bite and felt good. The waitress came back with the check. Estelle paid with the cash she'd taken from the soldier, and they left with the receipt. Only when they were outside did she hand it to him.

'We can help. 1300 Almagro St. 11pm. Be careful. GBUSA' There was a simple map leading from the cafe to the site. Logan pocketed the receipt.

'God bless the USA,' Estelle repeated. 'Let's go find some supplies.'

'Water,' he suggested. 'And fruit that won't spoil fast. Sausage if we can find it.'

A police man passed them, and Estelle kept signing. 'Crackers would be good.'

'I'm scared,' he admitted.

'Me, too.' She smiled and they kept walking. She kept signing and he kept his eyes on her. He was deaf. He had to be deaf.

The found a park and sat on a bench for a couple of hours, just signing about anything they could think to sign about. The trees, a lizard that passed by their bench, whatever. There were soldiers who passed but they ignored the deaf couple on the bench.

Estelle checked her watch. '1600' she told him. They still had five hours. They got up and kept walking, always moving in the direction the map had showed them. They found a little shop at the other end of the park and bought their supplies. There was a little problem at the checkout as Estelle couldn't 'hear' the total from the clerk. The bell on the door jingled but Logan didn't turn to see who had entered. A man asked if there was a problem in authoritative Spanish. Finally, the clerk understood Estelle's gestures and turned the display for her to see. The woman told the man they were deaf. Estelle gave her the money and took the change. She thanked the clerk in sign and they turned to leave. A policeman stood in their way. He stepped aside and they went on out. Logan slowly let out the breath he'd been holding.

'You're doing good,' she told him. 'I know it's hard when your body wants to run. Fight it.'

* * *

Estelle found a small motel near the meeting site. She checked the rate on the sign and counted her funds. They had just enough for one night. She didn't know if they would stay the night but they needed a place to be. She led Logan into the office. She motioned to the clerk and tried to make him understand that she needed one room. Finally, she showed him her money, he took a key from the back wall and traded her. She thanked him and they left again. She led the way up the stairs to room 6 and they went inside. Logan locked the door behind her as she collapsed on the bed. Dust rose up around her and she sneezed. It was not a nice motel.

She stood back up and they pulled off the top blanket. There was just one bed. She'd slept last so she let him have it for now. She turned on the TV but turned down the sound and put the captions on. They still had English as an option. The news was on and there was a picture of Logan in the corner. But it was a picture of him in captivity. His hair was long, his beard growing in on his gaunt face. She turned to look at him now. His hair was still short but he did need a shave. She told him in sign, lest some neighbors should hear. He dug in his bag for the razor and went to the bathroom.

The man on TV mentioned that the target didn't speak. They didn't mention that he signed. Because apparently, he never had. They offered a reward for anyone who turned him in. It was a lot of money, too. The guy who wanted him had to be high up in the Federation hierarchy. Estelle was glad they didn't mention her. Maybe they could still get by as a deaf couple. She would make sure Logan kept signing.

They both took a nap from 2000 until 2230. Then they gathered their things and headed out. Just in case things didn't work out, they weren't coming back here. They put the key into the return slot and walked away as the clerk's back was to them. He was yelling at the TV in Spanish. There was a soccer match on.

They made their way down the alley by the motel and turned onto Almagro St. 1300 was an old warehouse, boarded up. A dark figure stepped around the corner and waved them over. It was the waitress. She led them in a side door.

Inside they were met by at least two dozen people. They all wore a small American flag lapel pin. This was the resistance.

"You're the one they're hunting, aren't you," one of the men there asked. Logan looked to her.

"Calm down, Rico," the waitress said. She took Logan's arm. "Does he look like a soldier to you? I weigh more than he does."

"Why doesn't he talk."

"They're deaf," she argued. "But they're American and they need our help."

Estelle wasn't sure if they should break cover yet. She waited and watched. Logan did likewise.

"It's dangerous," another man said. "Even if he's not the one. If they find out we harbored them, they'll shoot us all."

"We can't abandon them. The Federation will kill them," a woman argued. "They can't defend themselves against the police here. We need to get them out."

Rico piped up again. "We could turn them in. Maybe get a reward. It would turn their suspicion from us."

There was an angry murmur as everyone argued. Estelle felt like she was supposed to tell them the truth. Sometimes, God's timing seemed inconvenient from her earthly perspective. "We're not deaf," she said. "It helps us get through out there."

The room went silent. "This is the one they want. He is a soldier. A Ghost. One of our best. But they don't want to kill him. They want to turn him. Make him their Ghost."

"How do you know this?" Rico asked.

"Because they already tried. He spent five months in their captivity. He was starved and tortured. He's recovering. He weighed just ninety-five pounds when he was rescued."

"How do we know he hasn't turned and isn't here to kill us?"

'Because they couldn't make me talk,' Logan signed.

"He is deaf!"

"Why doesn't he talk?"

"He can't talk," Estelle argued. "He never could. They tied his hands and didn't know he could sign. He never said a word. They couldn't break him. But they tried. Over and over."

"Tell us, Mister."

Logan put his bag on the floor and went to the front of the room. Estelle picked it up and carried it to where he was. He sat down on a crate there and she stood beside him. He looked at the floor as he signed, and she voiced what he could not.

"They kept me in a pit in the ground for months. I drank the rain and ate worms. They brought me food that was poisoned. I wanted to drown in the mud and muck."

The room was silent. "Finally, they came for me. They put a rope around my neck and hauled me to the surface. I choked. I was filthy. Rorke-" There was a gasp at the name. They knew of him. "Rorke dragged me to a river and held me under the water to clean me. I drowned. He revived me. He put me in a truck, then a crate and flew me in the cargo hold to Colombia. He took me to the cellar of a little hotel. He made me take a shower in burning water. Then he put me in a cold cell and turned out the lights. They came for me every few days. They'd cut me or beat me. But I didn't scream. I can't. Rorke would not accept that. He pulled my fingernails back." He showed them, bending a finger so far back it had to hurt. "Until they came off. He broke my arm. Again. They still gave me poisoned food. I was starving." He surprised her then when he stood up and dropped his pants. He showed them the scar. "They cut me open and shocked me with a car battery. Rorke cut this part from my leg and put it in my mouth until I was sick." He pulled up his pants again. "They put broken glass in my cell so I had to sleep on it. They drowned me in water. They hung me upside down and beat me with truncheons. Then my brother came for me. Rorke came, too. My brother brought our dog and he knocked Rorke down. I took his knife and I stabbed him in the chest." He motioned like he was stabbing him again. "Over and over."

Rico stood up. "Rorke is dead. We saw that on the news. They said he died in glorious battle."

Logan wasn't finished. "Do you think Rorke could die in battle?"

The room was silent again. Logan went on. "Before he died he told us his boss wanted me. He'd let a hundred men die for one more ghost. I don't know why he wants me. But I don't want to be turned. I don't want to fight for him."

The gathering murmurred among themselves for a while. Estelle put her arms around Logan and hugged him. What he had done was not easy. And now they had to hope this group would help them.

Finally the waitress spoke up. "We'll give you a car. You can leave tonight. Drive to Tecate and then ditch it and got north to San Diego. Do not get too close to Tijuana. It's too dangerous." The others around her nodded. "Follow me." She led them outside behind the warehouse. There was an old Mazda 6 there. It looked pretty beat up. "It doesn't look like much but it gets decent mileage and it's all gassed up."

Estelle got behind the wheel. The waitress handed her the key and a map. "Cross at the Caracas Street checkpoint. The night guards are drunks. Just keep signing and let them think you are deaf. They won't want to bother with you."

"Thank you," Estelle said. "May God bless you all and bring you freedom soon."

The waitress leaned into the window to speak to Logan. "You just get healthy and beat them back to South America. We want to fly our flag out our windows."

Logan nodded. He thanked her in sign. "Keep the lights off until you get outside the city," she advised. "Good luck."


	11. Chapter 11

More Than a Ghost  
by Philippe de la Matraque

Chapter Eleven

Estelle prayed quietly as she drove through the dark streets of Phoenix without headlights. They couldn't go very fast. When she dared a glance to her right, she saw Logan facing fully forward with a clenched jaw and two fists on his knees. He was stressed. She didn't blame him at all. They were in occupied territory heading toward a Federation checkpoint south of No Man's Land and still a state away from home.

"We should probably put the lights on for the checkpoint, right?" she asked. "It'd be suspicious to drive up without them."

Logan nodded. She kept her eyes forward but reached her right hand out to take his. "We're going to get through this." She was trying to convince herself as much as him. "I trust Jesus. He's more powerful than anything on this earth."

He squeezed her hand. She kept her eyes on the road. She saw lights ahead. There were a few other cars in line. "Lord, we're heading through that checkpoint there. We need your help. If I die I go to be with you. But if they take Logan, they will torture him again. Lord, you know how he suffered. You know the designs they have for him. Keep him free, Lord. Please get us through this checkpoint and help us get home. In the powerful name of Jesus, Amen."

It was blunt but God didn't require flowery language. She turned on the headlights and pulled in behind the fifth car. The line moved ahead slowly. There were armed guards. She couldn't tell if they were drunk or not. She remembered what they were supposed to be pretending. She took her hand back and tapped on Logan's shoulder. Once he faced her, she signed. 'We are deaf. We can't understand what they say. We can't answer them. We can't react to any sound. We need to be signing so they get the idea.'

Logan nodded and took a deep breath. 'I didn't see my dad at the checkpoint, like I did in the pit and Colombia. Why can't I see him now?'

Estelle wasn't really comfortable with the idea of ghosts in that sense. But she knew his father was a major reason he was still sane. Others might think him crazy, but she had been put off that train and she had seen something happen at the checkpoint. She also knew that they wouldn't have found Logan without his father. 'David never saw him. Why is that?' She inched the car foward as the front car drove away.

'There were rules. He had to learn them. He could do some things with me and other things with Hesh.'

So she considered that. 'Maybe your need was greater then. There was one set set of rules for then. But now, he is under the other rules.'

Logan looked sad at that. So she kept signing. 'Tell me about the train.'

He took another breath. 'I was really tired but he woke me. I don't know how. I felt heavy. I couldn't hear him. He showed me what to do and I did it.'

Estelle had thought about some of this during the long drive. 'I think we were drugged. The Federation got to the train.'

He nodded. 'I don't know how he woke me. If I was drugged.'

Now that was more familiar territory. 'Well, if we hold that God sent your father, well, nothing is impossible with God.' The line of cars moved up as another drove off.

'You think God sent my father?'

'Yes,' she replied. 'Maybe it's just easier for me to wrap my head around that way, but I do believe it. I prayed for a way through the checkpoint when we got here. And your father took their battery power and distracted them. God can make a way where there is no other way. Did you know that God sent an angel to release Peter from prison?'

He shook his head. Probably hadn't had a lot of Bible study since the war began.

She was a chaplain but she never was great at reciting scripture word for word. Sometimes it was called for. Other times it was not. 'Peter was in prison, chained to a guard. An angel appeared, the chains fell off and Peter walked right out of the gate.' Another car was let go and the line moved again.

'I wish he'd done that for me.'

'He still does miracles,' she told him, 'just not always the miracles we want. We don't control Him. His reasoning is far higher than ours. He didn't get you out, but He sent your father to help get you out.'

Logan was pensive. He was considering it. That was good. Well, not for trying to show everyone they were deaf. 'I do wish your father had thought to drop our shoes out of the train.'

He smiled. 'Me, too. Mine are too big.'

'Mine pinch a bit.' She moved the car forward. She could see the guards better now. One stood off to the side with a bottle in his hands. Maybe the waitress was right.

'He told me you have power.'

Estelle was intrigued. 'You said you didn't hear him.'

'Not there,' he replied. 'In a dream.'

That was very cool, she decided. 'Maybe he saw the Holy Spirit in me. I don't have power. God is the power.'

There was only one car ahead now. 'Do you believe in God?'

Logan thought for a bit. 'I think I do. I just don't know why he would let all this happen.'

'That is a very old question.' One of the guards had left his station and was walking toward them. She ignored it. He yelled something in Spanish. She didn't even try to understand. She was deaf. She'd be deaf. He yelled louder, and slower, behind her in the window. Logan pointed to the guard. Now she could pay attention. She rolled down the window and started signing. 'I can't understand you. I am deaf.'

He waved his hands around, mocking her. She could smell the alcohol from where he stood. Another went to Logan's window and tapped on it. Logan kept his eyes on her. Good. She pointed and he turned. He rolled down his window and repeated what she had signed. 'I can't understand. I am deaf.'

Logan's guard yelled at the one in her window and they started having an argument.

Then something happened. A jeep off to the side started up, headlights blazing. It lurched forward and several of the guards ran toward it. No one was behind the wheel. It sped up and slammed into a barricade before the lights slowly flickered out. 'Car battery?' she signed to Logan.

Logan's guard waved in the windshield as he walked past. He motioned them forward. The way was clear. Estelle thanked him and drove on. She turned right and drove west away from Phoenix. She merged onto a highway and into the light traffic on it. It was mostly semi-trucks. Cars were fewer.

She waited until the city's lights faded in her rear view. "You're a pretty good actor."

'I had to be,' he signed.

"Yes, you did," she said. "You did good. Now I think we can breathe easy for a bit. Why don't we try the radio again? Check theirs first. See if they're on to us."

He pulled out the radio he'd taken from the checkpoint and listened in. She caught enough to know they were still looking. Phoenix was never mentioned. "That's good. I wanna know if we're in range yet."

He put that radio away and handed her the other. She thought about what she'd say if someone answered. They were still in occupied territory. Someone could conceivably listen in. She decided to try to couch things in code, to not be obvious. And to keep it short. "Sawyer to Ghost One-One."

"Copy, Sawyer." Her eyes went wide and she grinned. "Is Ghost Six-Four with you?" She didn't recognize the voice right off. It wasn't Merrick, that was certain.

"Affirmative. We are alive and well. We are approximately five clicks out of Firebird, heading home."

"Firebird, ma'am?"

"We're heading a sideways, backward L to the backstreets."

"I don't understand but I'll pass the message along. Good luck."

"Copy Ghost One-One. Sawyer out."

Beside her Logan held up an L with his left hand turned backwards to point the L backwards. Then he tilted it.

* * *

Hesh stared at the paper, hoping that his father would come. He could take energy from the battery and then write on the paper. He could tell them where Logan was again. Hesh hated that he'd lost his brother again. He had just started to feel like that nightmare was over. He'd hated leaving Logan behind in the hospital. He was glad Estelle had stayed with him but it wasn't the same. He hadn't heard back from Logan for three days. Once he'd seen him, clean-shaven and all, he'd felt so much better. They'd talked every couple of days after that. Then he was on the train, headed home and now this.

The train had been crashed into No Man's Land. They were able to piece together that the Federation had planted a man on the train. He'd drugged the whole train, probably by gas, and a small team had infiltrated and diverted it. Another team attacked the border checkpoint and killed the Canadians manning it. They'd stopped the train there and searched it. Trucks were waiting to carry off Logan and whatever else they salvaged. Then they drove the train on. The tracks only went so far. ODIN had destroyed much of the entire southern United States. Trains just didn't go that way anymore. Some two hundred Americans had lost their lives in their sleep when the train had wrecked. A small team had then searched north along the tracks. It was unknown what they found, if they found anything. They left soon after. By the time, the US and Canadian troops had retaken the border crossing, there was that one dead Fed soldier that hinted at Logan's survival and freedom. He hadn't been shot. His throat had been slit. His body had been picked over for resources. That had to be Logan.

Merrick was actually relieved in part. Because it meant Logan could still work for his own survival. Hesh got his point and was glad for that, too. But it didn't matter so much when some madman was willing to risk so many of his own men for just his one brother. Taking the border station had not gotten the Federation any real tactical value. They didn't hold it. The train was a loss but it offered little in the way of real intelligence or tactical advantage. There were no high value targets on the train. Except Logan. It was bold and audacious to risk such a strategy for so little gain. Hesh just didn't think a man like that was going to give up so easily. Logan was free four days ago. Was he still?

He heard a knock on his door and looked up. Merrick and Keegan entered, both in their underwear. They'd been sleeping. Merrick had a piece of paper with him.

"We just heard from Estelle," Merrick said. He handed the paper to Hesh.

Hesh read it. The first part was great news. His brother was with her alive and well. But the rest was confusing. "Firebird?"

"Stumped us for a bit, too," Keegan said.

Merrick didn't make him parse it out. "Phoenix. The bird that rises from the flames. They just left Phoenix."

"Phoenix is in occupied territory!" Hesh exclaimed. "What were they doing there?"

"We don't know," Merrick admitted. He sat down on Logan's bed and Keegan did the same. "But we do know they're safe for now. Now for that sideways backwards L."

Hesh waited. Neither of them offered an answer. Hesh picked up the paper he wanted his father to write on and the pen he hoped he'd write with. Merrick took note of the battery, he saw, but the older man didn't say anything. Hesh wrote a backwards L then turned it one way. That would have them going north out of Phoenix into No Man's Land and then west toward San Diego. He turned it the other way. They were headed west in occupied territory and then would turn north. It was "into the backstreets" that tipped him off. They wouldn't need that if they were north already. They could just come straight in. But if they were going west first, they'd have to go all the way to Tijuana to come straight up into the heart of San Diego as it was now. They were going to hit the outskirts, the suburbs further east.

Hesh did not like this plan but it was the only one that made sense with the backstreets comment. He told Merrick and Keegan what he suspected. "They won't risk Tijuana."

"They're going through occupied territory," Merrick repeated. "I gotta admit, the Fed probably won't expect that. They probably thought they'd head north at their first chance. I wish they had."

Keegan shook his head. "When they left the border crossing," he said, "the roads down there were all chewed up by ODIN. Very few roads go north without dropping you in a hole. Same with any direction, but if you were heading south and west, you might make it through in turns. Through to Phoenix."

"So your brother, the most wanted single individual in the entire United States-at least by this one guy-, walked into an occupied city with a pacifist chaplain and somehow didn't get caught."

Hesh remembered something. "Don't we have people in Phoenix? Resistance. Can they tell us anything?"

"Radio chatter is hard for them. The Federation is always sweeping for radios. We may hear from them. We may not."

Keegan's baritone broke in as he stood. "It's too bad your brother can't talk. That's gonna be one hell of story when he gets back."

* * *

Elias stood back and smiled. They had worked it out. They knew where Logan and the woman were. To a point. They didn't know they were in a car, given to them by that resistance. But they knew where they were headed and that meant they could help once Logan and Estelle got closer.

Elias closed his eyes and thought of his younger son. He opened his eyes to find he was sitting in the bags in the back seat. Logan had his seat back. His eyes were closed. The woman, Estelle, was driving, singing quietly to herself. She was glowing. There was something about her that he couldn't quite figure out. Did all chaplains glow like that?

He cared more about his son though so he focused back on him. The rules had changed. Logan didn't see him or hear him anymore. Except in his dreams. In those dreams, Elias actually heard his son's voice and it was like music to his ears. He touched Logan's shoulder again and willed himself to find his son in his sleep.

He found that he was in the crate beside Logan. Logan was despairing and cold. He had almost given up. "Logan," Elias said. "You're not here anymore. Hesh rescued you. You don't have to be here anymore."

"Can't leave," he son said. "Tried."

Elias knew this was a dream. Dreams could change. He just had to figure out how to change this one. "You are in a car with that powerful woman. Look at her Logan. She's glowing."

Logan turned and the crate disappeared. He was in the car again. His body stayed asleep but in the dream Logan looked at the woman. "Is that the Holy Spirit? She said it was in her."

"I don't know," Elias said. "I'm just a ghost. I don't get all the answers."

"Did God send you to help me, Dad?" Logan asked.

Elias thought about that. He tried to remember where he was before he was in the pit with Logan. There was nothing there, though. No bright lights and ancestors waiting to welcome him. Nothing of a darker nature either. Just nothing. "I don't know, son. I was just there with you. I don't know where I was before that. But I look at her and I think maybe it's possible."

"You helped us at the checkpoints." Logan said, changing the subject.

"Of course. I won't let them take you when I can do something to help. I can't do as much now. But I'll do what I can."

"Thank you." Logan's eyes were getting heavy.

"Logan, that was you at the border crossing. You saved her. You did that. I'm proud of you."

Logan smiled and closed his eyes. Elias pulled back to let him rest fully. They were still in occupied territory and there were no guarantees. Elias hoped his older son would do the same. Then he got an idea. He went back to Hesh and did as he wanted. He pulled some energy from the battery Hesh had left for him on his bedside table. He picked up the paper with the L on it and turned it over. Then he wrote, "Get some sleep, son. Your brother may need you before this is over."

Hesh picked up the paper and gave a short laugh. "Thanks, Dad. I miss you." Then he put the light out and laid down on his bed. Riley jumped up to lay beside him.

"Sleep well, son," Elias said, even though he knew Hesh didn't hear him. "I will never stop being proud of you."

* * *

When Logan woke, the clock on the dash said it was 3:30am. There was a town outside the window. He stretched then tapped Estelle. 'You need sleep, too,' he told her.

She yawned in response. She slowed the car and pulled over into a small parking lot. No one was around. They switched places and Logan merged back on the road. He remembered some of the trips they'd taken as a family to hunt. They'd come down this way. There were two Tecates. One was in Mexico. The other in California. Of course, both now were in occupied territory, but he figured the Federation would probably take advantage of the large border crossing there than build another. Logan would rather not pass through that. He thought about the town they were in and the time. He figured they were passing through El Centro. They had an hour or so to go to reach Tecate.

Estelle picked up the Fed radio before she lay back for sleep. She listened in for a few minutes. "I think they found the jeep, Logan."

He nodded. That meant they might be able to trace them into Phoenix. And if they did that, they might find someone from the resistance and make them talk. Or maybe one of them would voluntarily tell the Federation where they were going. The man named Rico, for example. Logan increased his speed. He wanted to get a lot closer to San Diego before dawn broke over the horizon behind them.

* * *

Hesh woke up early and got some coffee. He went to the comm center to read the intelligence reports. Merrick was already there. The Federation force in Tijuana was building. San Diego was quietly prepping for an attack. The fact that much of the space between Tijuana and their section of San Diego was still massively ruined meant that the Federation would have a very hard time attacking any way than by air. Only small teams with small vehicles could really do much damage in the tight cliffs and massive canyons and craters. Merrick handed him the report he was really interested in. The Federation had found the Canadians' jeep outside of Phoenix. It was out of gas. They locked down Phoenix and were searching it street by street, house by house. Hesh was glad Logan and Estelle were well out of the city. He hoped the resistance cell there would stay out of trouble.

There was still a question of where Logan and Estelle were and how they were travelling. Did they have a vehicle? If so, they could be nearing San Diego's outer edges already. It was 0530. Hesh wanted to know exactly where so the Ghosts could offer an exfil.

* * *

During the night, the traffic had eased up. There were fewer and fewer vehicles on the road. Logan had sped up again. He doubted traffic cops were really an issue at the edge of No Man's Land. As wan light started to illuminate the landscape he saw the craters and destruction on his right. He was getting close. They'd have to ditch the car soon. They'd actually make faster time through No Man's Land by foot. That was how bad the section around San Diego was. It could take them days of walking but the car would not make it where they had to go.

Estelle woke up when the road got rough. The sun was peaking over the horizon to the east. "Where are we?" she asked.

Logan fingerspelled, 'El Cajon.'

"That's right. You're from San Diego. You know these parts. Our base is well north, forty miles in from the coast."

Logan pulled over where the road was broken away. The right-hand lane was gone. This was it. 'Time to walk.'

Estelle yawned. 'Do we have time for breakfast?'

'On the way,' Logan replied and she nodded. Logan got out and pulled his bag. He slipped his khakis over his civilian clothes. Estelle saw and did likewise. They needed to disappear at this point. Logan set his bag on the street then returned to the car and started prying off the rear-view mirror. Estelle got her things from the car and then helped get the mirror loose. Estelle tossed her wig onto the passenger seat. Logan put the car in neutral, and they both went to the back to push it over. It was hard and his arm ached but the car went over and just kept going for quite a bit. They watched from the top as it careened down the walls of the crater toward the remains of what Logan guessed was a school. He could see the yellow of school busses.

Then Logan put his bag over his shoulder and pointed Estelle into the woods on the left. They stayed under the trees as they walked. Estelle said she could walk fast and asked if he could keep up with her. He told her he would try. For now, they walked more slowly and he cut sausage while she matched it with a cracker and took turns eating one or handing one to him. They washed that down with water and then each had an orange. Logan paused to bury the rinds so that they wouldn't leave a trail. They used water to wash the stickiness of their hands and then continued on. This time walking a faster clip. Logan kept listening to the forest around them for sounds. They could see the road and it was still empty. But they were headed deeper into the woods. Logan knew there was a canyon between them and the outskirts of San Diego suburbs further north.

Within an half hour they were looking down into the Steele Canyon. Logan recognized the place as the Otay Sweetwater Refuge. Logan thought about it for a moment. Then he turned and told Estelle what he remembered. The canyon ran northeast and at the northern end was Rancho San Diego. Perhaps they could have the Ghosts meet them there.

Logan heard sounds of vehicles and moved to the edge of the tree line. He asked for the binoculars and Estelle retrieved them from her bag. There was a long line of vehicles moving up the road. They were out of time. Logan put the binoculars away and ran down into the canyon. Estelle followed on his heels.

They went deep into the trees, then Logan motioned for her to call. He told her the name of the canyon, pointed out the remains of a bridge he could just see through the trees. She pulled out the radio. "Sawyer to Ghost One-One."

"Ghost One-One." It was Merrick's voice.

"We are on foot in Steele Canyon moving northeast. Presently southwest of the old bridge. They're here."

"Copy. Stay safe. We're on our way."

"Sawyer out." She put the radio away. "Okay, Logan. Lead the way."

Logan moved from tree to tree and Estelle moved one tree behind him. They didn't see anyone yet. He wished he had a tracker. How had they found them? He wished he could hear his father, see him. His father could warn him of approaching enemies. He wished for Riley who could hear and smell them long before Logan did. He could kill them, too. But he had neither. He pulled the MTAR-X he'd taken from the guard at the border and loaded it. He didn't have a lot of ammo. He had a bit more for the P226.

He had no idea if he could fight this fight. There were a lot of vehicles and that meant a lot of enemies. To the north, he heard the staccato beats of an approaching helicopter. Too soon for the northern reaches of San Diego. This had to be Fed reinforcements. Fortunately, the woods in the canyon were overgrown. It made trekking slower but gave them more cover as they went. He glanced through the trees to the bridge. He spotted several snipers there. He pulled back into the trees. He sunk down further into the underbrush. He glanced behind him and Estelle had done the same. She looked scared. He didn't blame her. His own pulse was pounding. If they caught him...

He couldn't think like that. He tried to tell himself that this was no different than the Yucatan. He'd been separated from the rest of the Ghosts after their plane went down. Enemies were patrolling through the area, hunting him and the others. He had had to make his way in the underbrush then, often crawling on his belly, but killing those he could get away with. He'd had a tracker then to let him know when they were close. He only had their radio. He pulled it from his bag and the earphones from his mp3 player. He put one earphone in and turned the radio on.

They were looking for him. The woman could be killed. He was to be taken alive. They were moving in from the north by air, the south by road. They were to comb to canyon from both ends. Estelle and he were trapped.

Logan stopped moving. He ripped out the earphone. He couldn't think. There were too many of them. They'd catch him. He could only think of the pit, the mud, the smell, the worms, the hunger, the pain, the fear.

* * *

Estelle saw Logan had stopped and first looked for the immediate threat. She didn't see anyone. She knew they were there. She was more terrified than at any time in her life. More than the man with a knife to her throat at 3am. Way more than the canoe. Logan had so much more than those. He knew exactly what was in front of him if they caught him. She couldn't let it freeze him.

She moved up to where he was and pulled him down into the undergrowth. They were kneeling together. She spoke as quietly as she could so that only he could hear. "Logan." She touched his face, made him look at her. "Logan, they're coming. You have to stay free until they do. We are going to get through this."

'They're surrounding us.' At least he was signing. 'They'll kill you.'

"Then I'll be with Jesus," she told him. She was reminded of the verse so she told him, "'To live is Christ and to die is gain.' Logan, if I live I will pray with everything I have for you. If I die, I go to be with my Lord. So you don't concern yourself with me. I'll hide and I'll pray. But you, Logan, they won't kill you. You have that advantage."

'There are too many.' His looked so downtrodden.

"Do you know the story of Gideon?" she asked. When he shook his head, she gave him the short version. "Gideon was a commander faced with a battle against overwhelming forces. God told him to send half his men back. Gideon was dismayed but he did what God said. God kept widdling down his army. The was no earthly way that Gideon could win. When Gideon's army of hundreds beat the enemy of thousands, the victory was credited to God.

"I am confident," she told him, "that God does not want you to be a prisoner again. I have been praying it since we got off that train. Be the Ghost your father trained you to be. They will hesitate to kill you, but you can kill them."

* * *

Elias watched from a distance. He wanted to go to Logan, but he was stuck to the spot. He wasn't sure why. That had never happened before. The glowing woman, Estelle, was talking with him but Elias couldn't hear what she said. Logan signed but he couldn't read the sign from this angle.

"Elias," a voice called.

Elias looked around. He had never heard that voice before, but he thought maybe he knew it anyway.

"Elias, he's my child now." Elias looked back at Logan and saw that he, too, was glowing. Not as brightly as the woman, but glowing anyway. "Trust me," the voice said. "It's time for you to come home."

Elias faintly hoped for the chance to say good-bye to his boys. To tell them that he loved them. But he knew they knew that. He felt he had to go, to go home. To join his wife and his parents and all those before him. He could see them now as the woods faded. There was a bright light. They were waiting for him there. Ajax was there, too. They cheered him on. "I trust you," he told the voice and he went to them.


	12. Chapter 12

More Than a Ghost  
by Philippe de la Matraque

Chapter Twelve

Logan wore his father's mask. He retold himself the story that his father had told about the Ghosts' creation. Sixty men against five hundred. Then just fifteen. And they had won. He prayed like Estelle had. He asked God to keep him free. He had left her in a thicket in amongst the thorns. She tucked herself in there and he pulled vines and brush over her. And then he forgot her.

He saw a soldier moving toward him. He was lying down in the brush and the shadows. The soldier walked within a foot of him. He rose up behind him and shot him in the head. Then he disappeared in the brush again.

A group of three approached from the west. He waited for them to pass then took out the last of the three with his knife. The other two, he shot with the silenced MTAR-X. They dropped. He moved on. He stayed in the shadows and never crossed under light if he could manage it. He used what he had done in Yucatan. He could avoid being seen. When he had the time, he covered the bodies with brush. But he kept moving, never staying in one place for more than a few minutes. He would be a moving target. When there were too many getting too close, he let them pass, then tossed a grenade and moved the opposite direction. The sound of the explosion drew others but he was at the other side of the canyon by then. He was able to sight one of the snipers on the old bridge. It was a long distance, but the man dropped down and thudded into the canyon floor. He moved on. Four were standing and talking to one other. Probably officers. Logan mowed them down.

He lost track of time. He ran out of ammo in his M-TARX and switched to the customized P226. He just kept fighting, determined to stay free. Every Fed he faced wanted to take him into torture again. He forgot about being hungry or thirsty. He forgot to be afraid. He was angry. Each enemy was a replacement for the men who had hurt him in Colombia. Especially Rorke.

There was a firefight to the north. Airplanes flew overhead, strafed the bridges. Another section of the old one fell, taking a sniper with it. The Federation soldiers were getting jumpier. Careless. Logan pulled the pin from a grenade on one man's hip and slipped behind a large tree. The man kept walking then exploded. Logan disappeared in the smoke from the blast. He reloaded his P226. He was running out of ammo. He'd need a new weapon. He was closer now to the fallen section of the bridge. The sniper was pinned but alive. He struggled to aim and Logan shot him. That section was in sunlight. Not enough trees or shadows. He moved on, circling it wide. He was in the shadow of the new bridge then, Campo Street. Gunships up there were smoking. Logan couldn't go past it. He could get caught in the crossfire. He took up a position behind the old bridge and waited for the patrols to pass. He picked off the nearer ones. He needed ammo.

He crawled forward toward the nearest body. It was dappled in shade but the overhead sun shone down on it through the leaves. Logan turned the body over. Then he saw the laser sight on he chest. He tried to roll away but the man had him. Told him to get to his knees. Logan did, but put his pistol to his chin as he did so. "No cause for that, Walker," the man said in heavily accented English. He kept his gun trained on Logan while he pulled out his radio. " _Tengo él._ " Another soldier moved in from behind. Logan cocked the gun. The first man waved off the second. A third joined him.

"We will not kill you, Sergeant," the man said. "The Director has big plans for you."

Logan didn't move. He stared at that man with all the hatred he could muster. He tried his damnedest to be still while his heart pounded in his chest. He would not show them fear. Not this time.

Everything happened at once. There was a flash of brown and the first man began screaming. Someone shouted, "Logan, down!" and Logan fell forward as bullets flew over him. Then something began licking his mask. Logan started to push himself up and someone grabbed his collar, yanking him back. They dragged him backwards as he scrambled with his feet to keep from chocking. Finally, they dropped him in the cover of the wreckage of the bridge. Riley barreled into him, and he fell back as relief washed over him. Keegan pushed the dog off and offered a hand. Logan took it but as soon as he stood his legs turned to jelly and he fell back down. Hesh rushed up then. He helped Logan back further into the wreckage. Keegan left them to continue the fighting. "Ghost Six-Four recovered," Logan heard through Hesh's radio.

Logan was having a hard time breathing. He peeled off the mask. "It's okay, Logan. You can drop the gun." Logan looked at his hand. He still had the P226. His hand, well, his whole arm thanks to the cast, was shaking. He was shaking. Hesh took the gun. "God, Logan, it was empty? No wonder you're shaky." He wrapped Logan in a tight hug. "Logan, where's Estelle?"

Estelle. Logan didn't know. Was she far? She was in the thicket. Had they killed her? Hesh handed him a thick tablet. "Logan, sync on Riley. Lead him to her."

Logan looked at Riley. He was wearing the vest. He synced and the display from Riley's camera came into focus. Logan saw himself. He turned the dog around. "Merrick, Riley will find Sawyer."

"Copy. I'll follow the dog." Hesh nodded and Logan sent Riley around the wreckage. He led him southwest, scanning the trees. Riley stepped over bodies. Enemies were outlined on the screen. He zigzagged back through the canyon. Finally he saw the thicket up ahead. Three trees, growing together. He also saw the outline of an enemy approaching from the opposite side. Logan moved Riley around the thicket, kept him low and slow. He got Riley behind the man then sent the order to kill. Riley was efficient. The man was down.

Logan sent him into the thicket. He had him bark. "Estelle," Merrick said. "It's Riley. Come out." A hand appeared. A woman's hand. Merrick worked to clear the brush. Logan turned Riley around to keep guard.

"Riley, let's go," Merrick ordered. Logan spun Riley around and led him back to the broken section of bridge. Estelle ran to him. She dropped a bag and then dropped to her knees beside him. "You did it!" She laughed as she held him. "God is good!"

Merrick dropped the other bag. He switched off his radio and motioned that Hesh should do the same. "This has got to stop," Merrick said. "We can't risk the men this guy can every time he hunts for Logan." He picked up Logan's mask. "Logan, you need to be less of a target. You need to die here today."

Logan was confused. Hesh was, too. "What do you mean?" He stood up to face Merrick.

"Relax, Hesh." Merrick held up a hand. "We're gonna fake it." He looked to Logan. "Do you think you can stay limp, play dead? Your brother will carry you out."

"He can be a very good actor," Estelle said. She squeezed his hand. "Just pray for God's protection and comfort. Don't be afraid."

Logan nodded. He was afraid. But Hesh was there. Riley was there. The Ghosts were there.

Merrick switched his radio back on. Hesh did likewise. "Kick, we need immediate exfil, can you get the chopper down between the edges of the old Steele Canyon bridge?"

"Just barely," Kick's voice came back on the radio. "Give me cover."

"You got it." That was Keegan's deep voice.

"You'll take Estelle and the Walker boys. Get them back to base."

"Copy," Kick said. "Then I'll come back for you."

The wind picked up as the sound of the helicopter drew nearer. Ghosts sat in the open doors with machine guns firing at the enemies on the bridges. Merrick nodded and Hesh lifted Logan in a fireman's carry. Estelle picked up the mask and Logan willed himself to be limp. _I'm dead,_ he told himself. _Just one letter different than deaf._

Hesh laid him into the chopper and Estelle helped to pull him inside. "What the-" Kick started. Then he stopped and just flew. They left the ground and the sounds of the fighting began to recede into the distance. Hesh tapped him on the shoulder and helped Logan to sit up.

They flew over the ruins of the city and on north. Finally, they dropped as they neared a small two story building with a steeple and solar panels on the roof. The church. He was finally home.

* * *

Later that night, the three of them waited in the sanctuary. Logan was quiet beside him and Estelle was fidgety. She told Hesh how they had been put off the train by his father. But without their shoes. They had gone south, shadowing the tracks until they came to the border crossing. They'd taken shoes from the dead there. Logan had stolen a radio and keys. One of the guards spotted her and Logan killed him before he had a chance to hurt her. They pushed a jeep down into the canyons and then drove until the gas ran out. They'd worn their civies and pretended to be a deaf couple as they walked through Phoenix. They stopped at a cafe for lunch and the waitress helped Estelle get a wig to blend in better. She was in the resistance and they arranged for them to take a car and get away. They got out and drove. But once they left the car behind, the enemy had shown up very quickly. They'd encircled them. Estelle had hidden in the thicket. Merrick and Keegan entered at that point. Hesh was relieved to see them back.

"We left some survivors on the bridge," he said. "Some who might have seen you carry your brother. We left a radio where they could find it, heard us talking about him being killed. Let's just hope it's enough for whoever it is to buy it." He handed Logan's mask to Hesh. "It's yours now. You'll wear it in honor of your father and brother."

"Logan will get a new mask," Keegan stated. "And a new name."

Merrick leaned back on the pew in front of Logan. "I've been thinking about it. How's 'Phantom' sound to you?"

Logan shook his head. He lifted his left hand and spelled out a word. Estelle smiled beside him. "Gideon," she said.

Merrick nodded. "That works, too."

* * *

Logan wanted to believe that being home with Hesh was the end to his issues, the fear, the shaking. But it wasn't the case. He felt a thousand times better but the fear remained. Estelle told him about a man who had attacked her in her bedroom as a teenager. He'd held a knife to her throat at three in the morning. She said three things had saved her. 3am. She wasn't thinking quite right. He never made it to her bed because she met him at the door. God. She stayed calm in spite of the knife poised to stab her in the neck. And finally, the man's stupidity. When they agreed to go outside and talk, he'd walked out first and she'd locked the doors behind him. She said she went to school the next day. Her hands shook when she told the story. They shook for possibly ten years. Logan hoped it wouldn't take him ten years.

That night, he'd gotten cleaned up then Hesh showed him to his room. As soon as Logan sat on the bed he felt exhausted. Riley jumped up on the bed and Logan curled up with him to sleep. When he woke up, Riley was gone. Hesh was waiting for him. "Get dressed," he said. "I'll give the tour." After a tour of the church, they'd gone to breakfast. Everyone else had already eaten. Hesh put some waffles in the toaster. When they popped, he brought out the peanut butter and syrup. "Just like you like 'em." Logan ate them without any feeling of being sick.

He got to see the wider military base when Hesh drove him over to the hospital. The doctors there checked him over, rebandaged his ribs and reset his cast. They set him a nutrition plan and exercise regimen to get stronger. He stayed behind with Estelle when the Ghosts went out on missions. And the fear always rose when his brother was gone. Sometimes Logan woke from nightmares. They were always about Hesh getting captured or dying. Hesh was always there to calm him those nights. He'd sit on the bed with him and remind him that it was just a dream. One night, after a particularly horrid dream where he'd seen Hesh skinned alive, Logan had apologized to Hesh for being such a burden. Hesh had just put his forehead to Logan's and told him. "You will never be a burden to me. You're my brother."

While he stayed behind, he walked with Estelle, met her for reading hour when she'd continue their journey through Middle Earth. He worked out the muscles he was allowed to and ate more and more without feeling sick. Four months later, he'd reached his previous weight. The cast and the bandages were gone, and he was physically strong enough for field work. Merrick didn't push him, but asked if he wanted it. He did. He wanted his life back, all of it. He wanted to not be afraid when he went back out. Merrick started him slow. He kept Gideon on exfil duty with Kick or had him man the remote sniper or control an Osprey. Merrick handed him a sniper rifle and told him to hang back, keep in cover and aim his shots. Gideon found he had a knack for it. Little by little, the shaking had eased. The panic that had inhabited his chest for so long subsided. He was a Ghost again.

He never saw his father again, awake or in dreams. Hesh left that battery on the bedside table for months. Estelle told him his Dad had probably moved on to his reward. Logan liked the sound of that. Merrick and NORAD had worked on the intel that the man who wanted Logan was Director of something. He'd be a man with military power to order such assaults. They finally narrowed it down two years later. Gideon's last mission was to put him down. The shot was over 600 meters in wind and rain.

****** Three years later ******

Hesh stood in front of him. He straightened Logan's collar and pinned his boutonniere. "You look good, Logan Walker."

Logan turned to look in the mirror. He wore a dress uniform for the first time. And finally, the badge on his breast showed his real name, 'L. Walker.' He had a blue ribbon around his neck with a new medal. Hesh had one just like his. Hesh had more battle ribbons on his chest. But Logan also had the Purple Heart for those months he'd missed. But now the war was over. The Federation was defeated by a coalition of North American and European allies. The world was starting to turn right again, and Logan realized that panic in his chest was nowhere to be found. He felt good. Keegan entered the room. He was in dress uniform, too.

"You ready, Hesh?"

Hesh straightened his own uniform and patted Logan on the shoulder. "See ya soon."

He left and Logan was left with just the ring-bearer, Estelle's nephew. She had, it turned out, lots of sisters. She was the second oldest of six. Logan asked the boy if he was nervous. The boy signed back that he wasn't. He'd done this twice before with two of his aunts. Came with being the only nephew.

Logan held the door open for him and they went out into the hall. The music started playing in the sanctuary. It wasn't the usual wedding music. It was Mozart, because, "Well, Mozart." Estelle had a thing for Mozart. She walked out of the waiting room toward him. She looked beautiful in a long white gown, full of lace and sequins. She wore a long veil that hung down her back. One of her sisters arranged the train behind her. Logan signed to Estelle, 'You look beautiful.'

"I'm so nervous," she admitted, signing with one hand while she held her bouquet with the other. "I've officiated weddings, of course. Just my first time being the bride."

'Only time,' Logan reminded her. He kissed her cheek then offered his elbow. The doors in front of them opened, and they walked slowly down the aisle as the people in the pews stood and gawked. Thomas Merrick, down front, looked like he'd seen angel. Hesh just grinned. He was standing beside the best man, Keegan Russ.

Logan passed her to Merrick then stepped back and sat beside Estelle's mother. She took his arm and signed, 'I wish her father was here to see this.'

Logan looked up then replied, 'Maybe he can.'

The End


	13. Menu

More Than a Ghost  
by Philippe de la Matraque

Chapter Twelve

Bonus Features The Making of More Than a Ghost (next chapter)  
Deleted Scenes (very last chapter) 


	14. The Making of More Than a Ghost

More Than a Ghost  
by Philippe de la Matraque

Bonus Features The Making of More Than a Ghost

 **Background Information  
Who is Estelle?  
What the Author Knows About PTSD **

**background Information**

I gleaned a bit of background information from the Call of Duty Wiki (you can Google that). I found that Logan's call sign as a Ghost was Ghost Six-Four. To make matters confusing, so was Hesh's according to this site. Logan was 6' tall while Hesh was 6'1". Logan's weight is 170lbs. He had blond hair but brown eyes. As a blond myself, I know that all blonds are not platinum. I posited Logan as having dark blond hair. Hair that's not quite light brown. The brothers were born in San Diego. Logan was born in 2001. Hesh was 3 years older. This means they were 15 and 18 when ODIN rained down the kinetic rods on their home.

I used Google Maps to pick the airport Logan was transported to and the town he was trucked to. That's how I picked Hostel Kundur as well. As far as I know, I created the cellar.

I used Google Maps again to plot the timing of the drive from Phoenix to the outskirts of San Diego. Google showed me Steele Canyon and that terrain seemed better for my purposes than an urban setting.

And, of course, I gleaned information from the Rorke files and Hidden Files in the game. I believe it's Rorke File 14 (could be 16) where Rorke talks of Logan being different. He says his boss wants Logan. "A hundred men for one more Ghost. Now that's a leader I can follow." That quote can be slightly off. I'm writing it from memory. In Hesh's hidden file, he talks of he and Logan in the woods, learning to hunt, to speak without speaking. He talks of them having each other's backs. Elias talks of Logan reminding him of his wife and _always_ following Hesh. It's worth it, if you play the game, to search out all those Rorke files. You'll get the Hidden Files as a bonus. I also based some of how Logan fights on how I played the game.

Other things I gleaned from the game that may or may not be apparent in the game: Logan seems to need words of affirmation. His father and brother make a point of telling him when he's done good and when they are proud of him. That seems like he has a psychological need for it. Could it be that his silence affects his self-esteem? Yes, it's a gimmick that he's silent, but it seems in the story in the game that there are times he'd really like to speak but doesn't. Like when he catches up to his Dad in the jungle in The Hunted. Surely he'd want to tell him what Rorke said to him or what happened after that. Or when Hesh keeps insisting that he not forget Riley when it seems only Logan can shoot the men out of the helicopters or kill enough enemies to move the chapter forward. I know I told Hesh to shut up a few times. Or you think he'd make some sort of sound when that enemy slides a knife slowly into his shoulder(?) when they get back to Fort Santa Monica and are looking for their father. Not a peep. And I note that I'm not the only fanfic writer to write him as silent. As far as I know (I've not read them all.), I'm the only one to give a reason for that silence.

 **Who Is Estelle?**

You may have already guessed. Estelle is an author insertion character. The only one I've ever written under any pen name. Of course, she's not totally me. I am not a chaplain or even a reverend. I am a Christian. I do know some sign language but I'm not fluent. While I am one of six children as she is, and second oldest, I do have one brother and four sisters, not five sisters. None of us were named after the Lord of the Rings though my father did like the book.

What parts are me? Well, the walking, the hair, the trauma experiences, the mp3 playlists, the idea of tapping on a large pill to trick the body into thinking something is chewed so it's easier to swallow. Lots of little details like that. Yes, the canoe thing happened. Yes, the thing with the knife happened. And what Estelle gleaned from them is what I gleaned from them. More recently, I've been traumatized by a traumatized son. Our children that we adopted have Reactive Attachment Disorder and for the first 3 1/2 years, our son terrorized us with violence and destruction. Miraculously, he has finally turned over a new leaf. He has not been violent since January of 2015. My PTSD from that has faded a lot. I don't think I was able to analyze as much about it as those previous traumas. Maybe because they were one time events and not an ongoing issue.

Author insertion characters are notorious for turning into Mary Sues, and I sincerely hope I've skirted that. Estelle does not know everything, she does not save the day, and she does not get the guy (the main guy, anyway) at the end of the story. What she does have is an unwavering faith and the ability to care about people she's only just met. I wish I was as good at that as she is. She has to be saved a couple of times (the train and the canyon). She's not young and gorgeous. She's older (I'm old enough to have teenagers) and quirky. I doubt I will ever put so much of myself in any one character again. I kind of did it on a lark and I felt it worked out this time.

 **What the Author Knows About PTSD**

Since Estelle is an author insertion, you already know some of this. I really did have that observation that the body and mind are two separate things and the body doesn't always listen to the mind. I could not get my hands to let go of the canoe even when the water was shallow and I knew I was safe. That was perhaps the biggest epiphany for me. The other was the irrationality. When I was a teenager and a man came into my bedroom at 3 am and held a knife to my throat, I did get out of it through a) God's grace to stay calm b) not being about to do some things I thought about doing/3am not quite as cognizant as I could have been, and c) the man's stupidity. I went to school the next day. But I feared irrational things. I feared he'd come running from behind a house as I walked to the bus stop. He'd be dressed just as he was that night (jeans and no shirt). It never happened. When I went to my afterschool job at the checkouts at Kmart, I feared he'd walk up to my line, still dressed as he was that night, and come after me. Even years later, if, say, my brother was cutting a cake, I'd have a flash of that knife stabbing me in the stomach. Not my brother attacking me, just that knife coming toward me. Irrational fears.

With my violent son I thought of scenarios a lot and imagined how I'd deal with him coming at me with a baseball bat, breaking in to my room at night to try and kill me, etc. Yes, it was that serious. I am so thankful he's past the violence. I pray that he will never go back to that.

Trauma is not something I could just turn off. Not under any of those circumstances. But it does heal. The canoe really did heal the next year. I also took a turn in the back of the canoe where I had more control at another event, no rapids. That was helpful. Time did most of the work on the knife thing. I still get occasional flares of it. Usually it's the "weird" man that trips my trauma button. Such as a homeless schizophrenic man yelling obscenities in my direction in the Metro station and getting between me and my train. That will do it. Or my husband holding a knife carelessly and I get that flash of it stabbing me again. That's much more fleeting when it does happen.

As for my son, well, time away from him did a lot and then his change in behavior did the rest. He was removed from our home in August 2014. He still doesn't live with us but he's on the path back. I've been able to be safe in my home for well over a year. The change in behavior has allowed me to realize that I still love him, that he is likeable, and that I can trust him more and more. He's 13. Like I said, it's miraculous. (PS. Coming home did not work out and he did get violent again. He then went to foster care and will not be home again. My brother and sister-in-law are adopting him. They are gun-owners. This does not sit well with me. Not that they are gun-owners but that family services would think it's a good fit for a child with a history of violence.)

I've never seen a real ghost but I do believe in miracles, by the way. The cat curled up beside me is one of them. She was going to die of severe anemia at 7 weeks old. Fleas were eating her blood so much that she only had 4% red blood cells. Her blood looked like pink lemonade. Red blood cells carry oxygen in the blood. It's not possible to live with only 4% red blood cells. The vet gave her a 10% chance to live and said if she lived 3 days, she might make it. He really didn't think she would. I had a lot of people pray for her and 3 days later, she was sitting up eating on her own. She's 12 years old now. She definitely is a miracle. I gave her the middle name of Raphaelle, it means "healed by God."

 **Back to Menu (one chapter back)  
Deleted Scenes (one chapter forward) **


	15. Deleted Scenes

**More Than a Ghost**  
by Philippe de la Matraque

 **Bonus Features**

 **Deleted Scenes**

 **The Return of Rorke  
Homecoming  
Director Dress Down  
Thanksgiving  
Is Gideon Ready?  
Happy Birthday  
Rorke on Stage  
Director Goes Down  
Rorke's Freedom  
New Staff  
The Reception **

**Play All**

Rorke felt darkness closing in around him as the pain in his chest went away. Then he saw it. There was a hand over Logan's, a face beside his. "Elias," he breathed. And then the darkness closed over him and he felt no more.

Rorke sat up, surprised that he did so. He looked around. The Walker boys were there. Logan was leaning against Hesh, who had his weapon up aimed at the door. Rorke looked down and saw his own legs, blood seeping beneath them. He turned and saw his own face, his eyes staring blankly at the spot where he'd seen Elias. Elias's ghost. He was there, too, standing beside the boys. He was a ghostly white. Rorke looked at his own hands and saw that same ghostly whiteness. He was like Elias. He was a ghost.

He stood up. He wanted to hate them for what they'd done but he just couldn't manage it. He saw them differently now. Logan was a pitiful mess, a shell of his former self. Hesh, his brother and protector. Elias, the one who had defeated his boss's aims by bucking up his son against everything they used against him. Rorke looked again at Logan and then something odd happened. He saw his own face. But he was alone in the cell. The cell was different. But it was the same. He had been that pitiful and weak and beaten. That scene faded and he was again looking at the two boys and Elias.

The door opened behind him and Kick entered. He remembered Kick. Kick kicked his body. "I'm pretty sure I'm dead," Rorke told him. Kick ignored him and moved to the corner, right through Rorke, to where the boys were. Rorke felt him pass and it was an odd feeling. The three of them passed through him again. "Did it feel like this for you, Elias?" Rorke asked but Elias ignored him, too, and followed his sons out of the cell. Rorke followed him, but not up the steps.

He walked into one of the other rooms there, the one with the chair and the table. And he felt again the wounds he'd received, the ones he'd given to young Logan. He saw the man who ordered it standing by the door watching. The Director never got his hands dirty the way Rorke did. Rorke was afraid of him. He closed his eyes and when he opened them he was in the mud and gunk. The stench was awful. And the smell was familiar. He looked up and saw the Director smiling down. Logan hadn't broken like he had. Rorke was convinced now that Elias was the reason. Elias wouldn't let his son give up hope. And contrary to what he'd believed before, Rorke now realized that hope was what sustained a man. He hadn't had anyone to hold on to like Logan. Elias had dropped him. He had betrayed him. They used that against him. They used it to turn him. To turn him into a monster.

Rorke closed his eyes and thought hard about the Director, how much he hated that man who had ordered him starved and sickened, tortured, and turned. Had made him do to another man what was done to him because one Ghost wasn't enough. The man who would not except failure from his Ghost. He couldn't let himself believe that Logan couldn't talk. That would have been an excuse for failure. But Logan didn't talk, didn't scream, not ever. Not like himself. When he opened his eyes he was in an oppulent bedroom. There was a man and woman in the bed. The woman was young and pretty, a prostitute. That man was his boss, Director Immanuel Zapata. Rorke thought to smother him with his pillow but he couldn't hold it. He tried the man's neck but his fingers passed through it. He couldn't pull back the covers. He couldn't touch anything. What good was being a ghost if he couldn't touch anything? Elias had touched things. He had touched his son. That wasn't fair.

Rorke found a chair in the room and sat it in. Why could he sit in it? The rules weren't clear. He watched Zapata until morning when he kicked the young woman out. A bodyguard entered. He had a radio on his hip and Rorke remembered his men's issues with radios. The batteries would go dead just before Elias pulled something. Rorke followed the man and tried to figure out how to drain the batteries from his radio. Finally, he had his hand in the radio and he felt a buzz through his fingers. He took his hand out and pushed the guard into the counter in the kitchen.

So that was how. He ran back to the bedroom and pushed Zapata hard into the closet door. He tried to do it again but the power was gone and his hands went through Zapata. Zapata staggered and turned around. His nose was bleeding. Rorke smiled. This was going to be fun.

* * *

Riley watched the door to his room, waiting for it to open. Hesh had gone on a mission without him and Riley wanted him to come back. One time the door opened, but it was someone else. He took Riley outside for a walk but brought him back and Riley waited again. He lay on the floor in front of the door and put his head down on his paws.

Finally, the door opened and Hesh was there. But there was someone else, too. Riley knew his smell. He knew his face. It was Logan! Riley jumped up from the floor and stood up to put his paws on Logan's shoulders. He licked his face. He tasted like Logan! Riley had missed Logan. Logan put his fingers in Riley's fur and rubbed.

"Down, Riley," Hesh said in a happy tone. "You'll knock him over."

Riley understood, "Down, Riley." He got down. Logan sat down and Riley put his head in Logan's lap. Logan rubbed him some more.

"He's missed you," Hesh said. Riley was very happy.

Logan yawned and started to pull his boots off. Riley sniffed them. They didn't smell right. They smelled like Logan but like someone else, too. More of someone else.

"Here, boy," Hesh said. Riley went to him. Hesh gave him a treat and said, "go out." Riley liked "go out." He looked at Logan but Logan was lying down asleep. Riley was torn. He liked "go out," but he also liked Logan and "go out" happened a lot. Logan didn't happen a lot. Riley looked to Hesh then to Logan and then to Hesh.

Finally, he decided. He nuzzled up under Logan's hand and jumped up beside him the bed. He nuzzled again and Logan wrapped his arm around Riley.

"I guess I'll come get you both before dinner," Hesh said. His tone did not say go or come. He sounded happy again. So Riley stayed where he was. Logan was home. He had two people again.

* * *

"What is wrong with you!" President Rodriguez yelled. Rorke grinned. Zapata had finally gone too far. "Why on Earth would you attack San Diego without my permission?"

"It-it wasn't San Diego," Zapata stuttered as the door shut behind him. He thought he was alone with the president. Rorke knew differently.

"Close enough!" Rodriguez stood behind his enormous desk. "You lost four armored vehicles and sixty-five men. For what?"

"We almost got him," Zapata begged. "He was there."

"This was about the Ghost? You are obsessed with that boy. You had a perfectly good Ghost in Rorke. He was taking out their Ghosts, winning battles, taking cities." Rordriguez stalked out from behind the desk. Rorke walked through it and took a seat in the president's chair. "Instead, you fixated on that Walker boy and now Rorke is dead along with several hundred of our soldiers. You have wasted too many resources on this obsession of yours. Well, it's too late now. Your boy is dead." Rodriguez picked up a report from the desk and threw it at Zapata. "He shot himself in that canyon. Now you can stop this ridiculousness and do your real job."

Rorke enjoyed the dismayed look on Zapata's face. He was sorry about Logan though. Poor kid. He understood his choice to die rather than be taken. Zapata fumbled with the paper. "No, no, he can't be. He wouldn't."

"From now on, you are _General_ Zapata," Rodriguez went on. "You will order no major assaults without my express orders. You will take over our forces in Patagonia. Do well there and maybe, maybe I'll give you more. You waste resources there and I'll have you shot for treason. Do I make myself clear?"

" _Sí, señor presidente,_ " Zapata cowered.

Rodriquez hit a button on his desk and the door openned. "Now get out!"

Rorke followed Zapata out. He hurried out to the general's car and drained the battery in his bodyguard's radio. He rushed back inside to watch Zapata try and call for the guard. He went behind him and kicked in knee in so that Zapata fell. Rorke enjoyed toying with the man this way. It was light compared to what the man had ordered, for him and for Logan. But Rorke thought maybe, given enough time, he could make Zapata insane or insanely paranoid. Or maybe dead. He imagined scenarios that he might manage, like crashing an airplane Zapata rode in. He could try that. Or maybe draining his car battery just as he was driving over a mountain. He could then tear the break line out and watch Zapata fall over the side of the mountain. He hadn't yet been able to do that much, but he figured he had a lot of time now.

* * *

Kick had gone all out. When asked, he said cooking helped him destress. Logan, wanting something to do while he recuperated, had offered to help. So he'd made the green bean casserole and the mashed potatoes and gravy. Kick had found an enormous turkey. No one asked him how. It took the two of them to put it in the oven and pull it out again. They'd set it all out buffet style on one long table in the mess. There was also cranberry sauce, hot rolls and hot cider to drink.

After the others filed in and took their seats, Estelle gave the blessing and each person wrote on a slip of paper something they were thankful for. Logan, of course, wrote that he was thankful to be free. Hesh that he was thankful to have his brother back. Estelle collected them all and read them without giving names. Logan was touched to hear quite a few others that were thankful for his return. He didn't even know everyone on the base yet. Merrick and Keegan joked that his being back made Hesh a lot easier to live with.

Logan took a fish oil gelcap before loading up his plate. He got some turkey and mashed potatoes. He was about to move on, but Merrick stopped him and added more turkey, telling him he was still too thin. So Logan loaded up his plate, thankful again that he could do that.

Everyone sat down with their plates but no one ate at first. Logan sat a table with Merrick, Keegan, Kick, Estelle, and Hesh. Merrick stood up and raised his cider cup. "Happy Thanksgiving!" Everyone else raised their cups and gave a cheer. Then the eating and talking filled the room with a happy cacophony. Logan felt content to listen in. Estelle was right. He still had to heal, but there was life after the trauma. Good life. And this day was part of it.

* * *

Logan was nervous. He knew Merrick was reading his latest medical report. If the doctors said he was physically well enough, Merrick could put him back in the field. It's what Logan wanted. But the thought sent an odd feeling through his body. Like his heart wasn't right, his chest felt odd all the way down into stomach and into his thighs. His breathing was tight and he felt a little light-headed.

Merrick came to see him in his room. Logan was petting Riley to try and keep calm. The older man sat on Hesh's bed. "Your latest physical is good. Your body weight is back up. You're stronger than you were before. Physically, you're ready. The question is, what do you want to do?"

Logan let out a shaky breath and pulled in another. He didn't answer right away.

"You know I've been practicing," Merrick said. "So give me a shot."

Logan nodded. He let go of Riley. 'I want to be a Ghost. But I just feel-' He struggled with the right word and finally just signed, 'wrong.'

Merrick just nodded. "That's okay, Logan-Gideon. It's PTSD."

Logan looked down and sighed. "Hey," Merrick said. "No one thinks less of you for it. Look, I read those reports before your brother did. No one, and I mean no one, could go through that and _not_ have PTSD. So don't rush yourself. If you want, we can start you out slow when you're ready. We've got recon missions where you could guide Riley. Or we could get you set up with the Remote Sniper. Keep you out of the thick of it for a while. No rush. You let me know when you wanna try that. Until then, just keep doing what you're doing. Keep your body ready. And if you decide you're never gonna be ready and it's time for civilian life, we can deal with that, too. Either way is okay, and anything in between. You don't have to feel wrong. Just wait until you feel right."

* * *

Hesh walked back into the base with a small box in his hands. Logan knew what it was. Hesh handed it to him as soon as he was inside. "I appreciate what Kick was trying with the onions, but my eyes are still burning."

Logan opened the box. There was a medal there, his Purple Heart. Posthumously awarded to his surviving brother.

Merrick put hands on both their shoulders. "We never know what the Director might be watching in our feeds. You had to look like a grieving brother. It worked."

Logan put the medal in the drawer in Hesh's bedside table. He could never wear it as Gideon. That would have to wait until they either eliminated this Director or the war ended. Hopefully with the Federation's defeat. It kind of made him sad, but he felt safer being Gideon. He just hoped the Director, whoever he was, had believed that Logan Walker had died back in Steele Canyon.

Hesh came in and sat beside him. "You okay?"

Logan nodded. Hesh stood up again. "Come with me, I have a surprise for you."

Logan wasn't sure what it was. He followed his brother out of the room and upstairs to Estelle's room off the Sanctuary. Merrick and Keegan were there with her. She was holding a small cake with two numbered candles in it. "Happy Birthday, Logan," Hesh said. "I know it's not the great birthday party I promised in my card-"

Logan shook his head. 'I'm home with you. It's the best birthday I've ever had.'

Estelle sat the cake on a table and Logan made a wish. He wished that he'd spend his birthday with his brother every year for the rest of his life. He blew out the candles. He was twenty-seven.

* * *

Rorke wasn't thinking it would be like this. Nor that it would take this long. Zapata had towed the line for a year down in Patagonia and been reassigned to his former position, provisionally. Rorke knew he was planning black ops for small teams. He still wanted his Ghost, even if it wasn't Logan. Logan's brother would work. Rorke had found that no amount of battery power would allow him to kill anyone directly. This had been disappointing but he had accepted it. Instead had worked hard to drive Zapata crazy and leave him vulnerable. He routinely drained the batteries from his guards' radios to make them less efficient in keeping him secure. And of course, to give Rorke the ability to throw things around the room or to pull the blankets off Zapata while he slept.

But now as he walked the streets of Caracas behind Zapata and his guards, Rorke thought he saw a familiar face. No one else would have noticed it. The man blended well into the spectators, but Rorke recognized Kick. He left Zapata and leaned into Kick's head to hear what was on his radio. It felt weird but he was used to it by now.

" _Marca está aquí,_ " Kick stated and Rorke got very excited.

"Affirmative, Ghost Six-Four, you're on," was the reply. Ghost Six-Four. Wasn't that? But it couldn't be. He was dead. Rorke closed his eyes and thought hard about the younger of Elias's sons. He pictured him how as he'd seen him before he'd captured him, tall and well-built and strong. He opened his eyes and he was in a stairwell. A door opened below him and two dark figures raced up the stairs. One of them carried a sniper rifle and wore a Ghost mask. Rorke couldn't see his face. He estimated he was six feet tall.

Rorke followed him anyway. They ran up the stairs two at a time. Rorke had no problem with that. They were pinned by weapons fire before they could get to the next floor, and Rorke took the chance to really look at the sniper's eyes. And then he knew. Logan Walker had not died two years ago.

"I'm going to help you," Rorke told him. He closed his eyes and thought again of Zapata, with his oily hair and hairy arms, and too-tight uniform over his bulging belly. He opened his eyes and he was with Zapata on the stage for the president's speech. A light rain had started to fall and the wind had picked up. Rorke looked back at the building the Ghosts were in. It was a long shot in these conditions. Was Logan that good?

The crowd cheered. The president waved as he finished his speech. Rorke found some batteries with the president's bodyguards and returned to Zapata. The fireworks began to light up the sky. It would happen any minute now.

* * *

Keegan led Gideon deeper into the building. Hesh and Jackson helped to clear it but it was Keegan's job to get Gideon to his mark. Only Gideon's eyes revealed his emotional state. But Keegan had stopped worrying about that more than a year ago. Gideon had proven himself capable back in Steele Canyon. But he had been eased back into the field months later. Merrick had remembered how Logan had been really good at picking off the distant enemies before he was taken and had given Gideon a sniper rifle to practice with. In the last year he'd proven particularly deadly with it.

Keegan opened the door and they stepped out onto the roof of the building. It was raining, but Keegan didn't mind. It would help to hide their presence. Gideon didn't seem to mind either. He'd really gotten that good. Hesh and Jackson followed and took up defensive positions in case anyone else came out that door.

Keegan led Gideon to the northwest corner. He pulled out his binoculars and aimed them past the next building over into the space between the skyscrapers. There was a square over there and Keegan could just see a sliver of a stage and three men to the left of a podium. The target was the one in the middle. Keegan briefed Gideon, and the younger man crawled up onto the ledge. It was about two-feet wide, enough for him to lay prone as he steadied the rifle. Keegan handed him the bullet he would use. Gideon squinted in confusion but then he got a satisfied look in his eye when he really looked at the bullet. There were three letters imprinted into the slug: LTW.

Gideon loaded it into the weapon and took aim. He took his time, slowing his breathing. Keegan knew his pulse would be slowing, too. Gideon adjusted for the wind, the distance and gravity. In the distance, fireworks began to light up the sky. It took a second or two for the sound of the blasts to hit them. Gideon stopped breathing. Keegan put a hand on Gideon's shoulder, holding on to his vest in case the rifle's kick should upset his balance on that ledge. He pulled out his binoculars again. The boom of another firework came back to them just as the kick pushed Gideon's shoulder. Keegan watched the man crumple. The people on the stage panicked. "Good shot," Keegan told him. "Let's get you out of here, Logan." He clicked on the radio. "Target is down. Director Zapata is no longer a threat."

"Yes!" Hesh exclaimed. Keegan saw him pump his fist into the air before he settled back into focus.

"I don't suppose he can get a bead on the president?" Merrick's voice answered.

"No, they're panicked. Got him squared away first thing," Keegan replied. "Besides, we wanna leave before they know where to look for us." Logan picked up his casing and put the rifle on his back. He signed and Keegan figured it was something in the order of, 'Lead the way.'

"Good work, Actual." Merrick voice said in his ear. "Get to the rally point. Exfil in ten."

* * *

Rorke felt the bullet and pieces of bone and brain pass through his face as Zapata's head came apart between his hands. He had held Zapata's head still by cupping the man's ears. The man beside him had asked Zapata why he was fiddling and it was funny to hear him try to explain. Well, he wasn't explaining now. Logan had made the shot. He wouldn't have to worry about any small black ops teams any more. He could just be another soldier in the war. For himself, Rorke felt a certain freedom to be rid of Zapata. Free of hate now.

He turned to where they'd rushed Rodriguez off. Maybe he could still do his duty to his country. His real country. He took off after them. Would a paranoid president help end the war?

* * *

Logan put his hand on Kick's shoulder. He was losing his destressor. The army had assigned them a civilian cook. As with San Antonio, Phoenix was evacuated after its liberation. NORAD had decided it would be too difficult to hold given the destruction of No Man's Land that separated the city and the rest of the country. The evacuees had to be housed and given jobs and the army, as it settled further into the base in San Diego had offered many of the civilians work in the service sector, doing laundry, cleaning and cooking, but also administrative and IT work. Two such evacuees were slated to the Ghost base in the church. In fact, they were a mother-daughter team: Esmerelda and Maria Infante.

Logan waited with Kick at the back of the corridor, watching for the two to arrive. Merrick and Estelle were greeting them officially. Hesh and Keegan joined Kick and Logan as they watched. An older woman entered with another woman that Logan couldn't really see from his vantage point. He heard the older lady say something in Spanish. Then the daughter translated. Logan felt he knew that voice. When he saw Estelle hug both women, he felt sure he knew the voice. He left the other three standing there and joined Estelle. She welcomed him and put her arm around him.

"Logan, this is Esmerelda Infante and her daughter, Maria. Esmerelda very kindly loaned me her wig in Phoenix. Maria was our waitress in that lovely cafe."

Logan signed his reply, 'I remember,' and he held out a hand to Maria.

"You look a lot better now," she commented as she shook his hand, "And bigger. You finally have meat on your bones. But you still need to keep up your end of the bargain."

Logan smiled. 'We're working on it,' he told her and Estelle translated.

Maria smiled and filled in her mother on who Logan was. Her mother's eyes went wide and she hugged Logan tightly.

"What bargain?" Logan heard Merrick ask.

"To kick the Federation back to South America in return for the resistance's help in escaping the city," Estelle told him. Finally, Esmerelda let Logan go and Estelle took the two women to show them the kitchen.

Hesh and Kick ran over to him. "Do tell," Kick said. Logan noticed the Hesh was just staring after Maria. So Merrick filled Kick in as Logan told the story.

* * *

Logan handed Estelle's mother a tissue and she dabbed her eyes. The chaplain performing the wedding had a sign language interpreter right beside him. One of the bridesmaids, the youngest, kept looking back at him and smiling. She was pretty. She had long dark hair and brown eyes. She was Estelle's sister, Éowyn. All their names came from the Lord of the Rings in one way or another. Which was something considering there weren't that many female characters. So Galadriel was the oldest, then Estelle, then Rosie, Merry, and Sam (Samantha). Éowyn was the youngest. She was just a year younger than he was, in fact.

She made a point to ask him to dance at the reception. The music was loud. She led him close to the speakers, telling him she could feel the music there. Stan and Rosie were there as well. Logan had never had a lot of experience dancing and he told her that. 'It's okay,' she said. 'Watch what they do and just do the same.' She pointed to Stan and Rosie. But there were plenty of others dancing as well. 'I'll try to make it look like you're leading,' she added.

Hesh watched his little brother dancing with Estelle's youngest sister. Keegan leaned over. "Wouldn't that be priceless? A guy who can't talk with a woman who can't hear."

They were both surprised when the bride leaned in between them. "I think they're cute together." She tapped Hesh on the shoulder. "You just be sure he catches the garter, and I'll try to throw the bouquet right to her."

Hesh shook his head. "If you're gonna play matchmaker, I'm single, too," he joked. He'd been trying to work up the courage to ask Maria to dance.

Estelle got a wicked grin. "Well, I'm already working on that." Hesh wasn't sure how he felt about that. "But, you know," she went on, turning to Keegan, "Galadriel got divorced last year. She's asked me if Keegan is your first name or last."

Keegan's eyes went wide. "Leave me out of this!" He stood and stalked away. "I'm gonna go get some punch."

Estelle laughed. "Tom isn't really much a dancer. So, do you think you can dance with the bride, David?"

Hesh stood and bowed, offering her his hand. "I'm only a slightly better dancer than Logan, but I'd be honored."

Truly The End

Note: I tried my hand at a Riley scene. I've never written from a dog's POV.

Well, I hope you've enjoyed the story and these extras. They weren't really deleted from the story, but written after. They're not story-worthy really. Rorke does not get a POV scene in my story. Riley certainly doesn't. And not all loose ends need to be tied. But they are a guilty pleasure of mine, and I thought maybe you'd enjoy them. I'm trying to get all the COD Ghosts things out of my system so I can get back to my usual life. I've put off studying my foreign languages (French, German and Swedish) as I did every evening, and my Criminal Case game I was very into, and many other things as all I wanted to do was write. And COD Ghosts has ruined me for other games thus far and I'd really like to enjoy some other games.

Oh, and I do think Hesh ends up with Maria, Logan with Éowyn. They have a hearing child. The couples end up living in a duplex together so Aunt Maria, Uncle Hesh, and Abuela can visit often so the child can learn to talk that magic way that babies do. Oh, she'll be trilingual when she's done (sign, Spanish, and English).

I have toyed with the idea that Logan has surgery to replace his damaged vocal cords. They are actually working on stuff like that now in 2015! Read it in Huffington Post. Lab-grown vocal cords vibrate in just the same way as natural vocal cords, new tests show. So it could be done! How then does he learn how to speak? Hypnosis. A therapist who uses it regresses him to when he was a toddler and knew how to talk, then wakes him up retaining that knowledge. His vocabulary would be limitted and he'd have to try out new words, but the simple knowledge of how to make those cords vibrate and form sounds would be there. But as you can see, I didn't write it. Feel free. It could be cute when he's regressed and a grown man speaking like a 2-year-old. But also really neat when Hesh finally hears his brother say his name again.

So there you have it. All my COD Ghosts ideas are out in the open. I need to get back to life now.

Thanks for sharing in my therapy after finishing the game. I can survive it now. At least until they finally put out COD Ghosts 2...

Philippe de la Matraque aka Gabrielle Lawson aka Ainaechoiriel (in LOTR fanfic).


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